The Faceless Alchemist
by OldHunterLoryx
Summary: A failed attempt at Human Transmutation has dire consequnces for a young alchemist, and the effects leave him changed beyond recognition. He is forced to assume a new identity and become a State Alchemist, working with the State Military. Though this ordeal damages him greatly, it is only the first step on a great journey, one that might change the fate of all Amestris.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Faceless**

* * *

North City: 14/01/1912

It had been a while since I had last been to North City, and I didn't find the place any more agreeable since last time. I was certainly used to the cold, but the urban environment dredged up some unpleasant memories. I wouldn't be here if it was my choice, but it wasn't, so here I was.

A notorious criminal and murderer from Central had reportedly made his way to North City, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. While the idiots that ran Central Command were seemingly content to let this man run wild, Northern Command couldn't allow such a thing to go unpunished, and so I had been sent to dispatch this killer.

When I arrived in North City I had been informed that Northern Soldiers had bottled up the target in the warehouse district, but they were seemingly unwilling to go further and finish the job. For some reason the soldiers here were unable to kill one man with an entire regiment, I made a mental note to mention this deficiency in North City's forces to the General when I returned.

I then began to make my way towards the warehouse district, the streets I walked through were illuminated only by the occasional streetlights, the pale light of the moon hanging in the night sky. As a gust of wind blew by me I felt the bite of cold on my forearm, the wind stinging the flesh of my arm that had somehow become exposed. With a slight wince of pain, I pulled at the bandages that covered my arms, covering the exposed area. I briefly checked the bandages that covered the rest of my body, berating myself for my carelessness before continuing on towards my destination.

The warehouse district was located on the edge of North City, and I had been told the location of the nearest cordon that the military had set up. Apparently most civilian workers would have finished for the night and gone home, so the likelihood of civilian interference was minimal. I had almost made my way to the cordon at this point, and according to the directions I had received it was located just around the corner from the street I was walking down.

I turned the corner into an alleyway and saw the cordon that the troops had set up across the entrance to the warehouse district, the troops seemingly relaxing when they saw my Amestrian Military uniform, the traditional blue uniform covered by the long black coat favoured by most soldiers in the North. Their relief was short lived however, as they tensed up again when they saw the rest of my appearance. I couldn't blame them for that, but I had a job to do, and I couldn't afford to be delayed by their curiosity.

When I reached the checkpoint one of the soldiers held up his hand to halt me, I sighed briefly at the interruption and reached for my military ID, passing it to the soldier while his comrade watched me with his hands on his rifle. I wasn't surprised that they didn't recognise me, as besides my somewhat conspicuous appearance I wasn't very well known, and I rarely came to North City.

"Brigadier General Richter Magnus." He muttered, reading aloud from my ID "Codenamed: The Faceless Alchemist." He looked up to confirm the source of my codename.

He must have been somewhat confused by my appearance, nothing but bandages covering my whole body, and a pair of goggles covering my eyes. Though I knew that my ID held a photograph of me with this look it was clearly still quite an odd situation, and I suppose his suspicion in this situation was warranted.

I knew how unusual this must have been for him, it had taken me months to become accustomed to my situation myself, and most new people I met regarded me with uncertainty and confusion. That fact used to bother me no end, but I had adapted to my circumstances, and I no longer allow myself to be concerned with something as trivial as my appearance.

"Do you have your Alchemist's pocket watch with you Sir?" he paused before continuing "For identification purposes."

I wordlessly reached into my coat's pocket and showed him the silver watch, he nodded and handed me back my ID, I pocketed both items and made my preparations to enter the district.

"So, you're a State Alchemist then?" another soldier asked, "And a Brigadier General at that?"

"Indeed." I replied, not wanting to recount my life story to these two "What's the situation here then?"

"The suspect is in here somewhere; all of the exits have been covered." The first soldier muttered, clearly not too keen on the whole affair "He is known to be armed and highly dangerous Sir, and we have been told not to interfere until reinforcements arrive."

"I see." I muttered, gears already turning in my head as I contemplated the situation "Well then, I suppose I had best get to work. You and your men are to wait here for my return. On no account are you to follow me unless I call for you." With that I walked away from the gathering of soldiers, and into the warehouse district.

"But Sir!" one of the soldiers called "Aren't you going to wait for the reinforcements?"

"I am the reinforcements." I called back, not bothering to hear their reaction as I made my way forwards in search of my target.

* * *

The warehouse district was cramped and dark, with the buildings all so close together it left only narrow alleyways to move through, leaving me feeling like somewhat of an exposed target. The buildings cast long shadows over the alleys and walkways, and the few gas lamps that could be seen were either flickering or completely broken, leaving the area around me in complete darkness. I placed my left hand on the hilt of my sword, ready to draw it in a split second should the need for action arise.

It seemed at first that the place was abandoned, as after several minutes of searching I had found no sign of the killer I saw supposed to be tracking. I briefly wondered if the incompetence of the soldiers had extended to the point where they couldn't even cordon off an area correctly, giving my target a way to escape. That train of thought was cut short when I noticed a few fresh drops off blood on the ground just below my feet, I crouched down to inspect the evidence and I realised that there was more blood further away, and with this discovery I had a trail to follow.

I followed the steady trail of blood for a few minutes until it led towards the door of a warehouse, there was blood smeared over the door handle, and I pushed on the flat surface of the door to open it, being careful not to damage any evidence and earn the ire of the MPs. I stepped into the warehouse and pushed the door shut behind me, the cold wind whistling through the holes in the building. As I walked further in I noticed the trail of blood had become far more pronounced and closely spaced, indicating that the injury was having a greater effect on the victim. I quickened my pace in order to reach whoever had been injured before their blood loss turned fatal, though I still stayed wary of my surroundings in case the killer was lurking around looking to finish off whoever he had wounded.

The interior of the warehouse was filled with wooden boxes and crates, creating a labyrinth of pathways throughout the building. I rolled my eyes behind my goggles, this was the perfect place for an ambush. I reluctantly followed the trail of blood into the twisting pathways of the warehouse, looking into every shadow for any sign of the killer that could be lying in wait.

As I made my way through the pathways I heard the sound of somebody breathing in pain, and it became clear that I was nearing the location of whoever had been injured by the killer. I turned a corner and saw the person I had been tracking, a young woman in military uniform sat slumped against one of the crates, her hands pressed against a wound on her abdomen that was slowly leaking blood onto the floor around her. I walked over to the woman, a Sergeant, judging by the rank markings on her shoulder, and knelt down beside her to assess the extent of her injuries. She only just seemed to have noticed me, and she looked up with an expression of fear on her face.

"It's alright." I placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her "I'm with the military."

She relaxed at this and nodded slightly in understanding, wincing at the effort of the movement. Her injuries were clearly severe, and if she wasn't given proper medical attention soon she would certainly die. I knew I had to do something to stabilise her here, as we would be easy prey to the killer if I had to walk an injured soldier back to the cordon alone. Unfortunately, my own medical training extended no further than the bare minimum provided by the military, however there was an art that I was more proficient in…

"Sergeant." I whispered, only loud enough to draw her attention while hopefully avoiding any outside attention from unwanted parties "I'm an Alchemist, and I should be able to mend your injury. But I need you to move your hands for me to perform the procedure, do you understand?"

She replied with a mumbled "Yes Sir" and moved her hands away from her injury, groaning in pain as the injury began to bleed more profusely due to the loss of pressure on the wound.

I pulled a stick of chalk from my belt and quickly drew a transmutation on the ground below the Sergeant, ignoring the steady drips of blood onto the circle as I finished drawing the array.

"Alright, this may sting somewhat. But I need you to remain as quiet as possible." I muttered to the Sergeant, who nodded her understanding and gritted her teeth.

I pushed my hands onto the circle and activated it, the traditional sparks and flashes of lightning spat from the circle as the transmutation was activated. The Sergeant, to her credit, managed to stifle her gasps of pain as the transmutation stitched her wound shut. The light vanished as quickly as it arrived, and it seemed the transmutation had been completed. A quick assessment of the Sergeant's injury showed the procedure to be a success, and although she would still need medical attention, the window to save her life had hopefully changed from minutes to hours.

Unfortunately, it seemed very likely that the noise and light produced by the transmutation had drawn the attention of the killer, and my suspicions were confirmed when I heard a dark voice behind me.

"So compassionate." The voice chuckled "But all you have done is prolonged the inevitable and led yourself to death as well. No matter, I have no issue with claiming a second victim tonight."

I turned to face the killer, and I was met with the sight of a large man with a perverse grin on his face, and threadbare clothes covering his lean but still muscular body. He had long, ornate blade clutched in his hands, it's elegant and refined appearance at odds with his ragged appearance. He was crouched on top of one of the crates, and he had seemingly been watching me perform the transmutation.

"I take it you are the serial killer known as Slicer?" I questioned, standing up straight to face the killer head on "The one responsible for a string of murders in the Central Area?"

"So, you've heard of me?" He chuckled mockingly "I see that my reputation precedes me."

"All you are to me is another criminal who needs to be brought down." I stated dryly, using the lull before combat to try and analyse my opponent "You will claim no more victims Slicer."

"Big words for someone hiding behind a mask." He cackled, leaping from the crate onto the ground and lowering himself into a fighting stance "I will enjoy ripping those bandages from your face and watching you scream in pain before I send you to death like all the others."

"You seem to have a fascination with death." I uttered, drawing my own blade, a single-edged sabre that was popular throughout the military "Come, and I will grant you what you seek."

With those words out of the way Slicer charged forwards, and I readied myself to meet him in combat.

* * *

Slicer's first blow came quickly, and I raised my own blade to turn the strike aside before retaliating with a thrust of my own, which he deftly stepped aside from. Another strike came immediately after, this time I stepped out of the way before making a strike at his side, which he brought his blade down to parry with.

My main concern was to move this battle away from the injured Sergeant, as a single stray blow could end her life; So, I allowed Slicer to push me backwards into a more open part of the warehouse, though I still parried or blocked all of his blows. Slicer's skill with a blade was evident, and I knew that this wouldn't be the simple fight I had hoped for.

As we reached the open floor to the side of the warehouse we began to circle each other while still trading blows, each attack was dodged or turned aside, neither of us wanted to commit too much at the beginning of the fight, and so practised blows were traded as we each sized each other up, looking for weaknesses or weak points to exploit.

We continued to trade blows and parries, neither of us could gain the edge over the other. Slicer's stance and form were near to perfection, and his technique gave me nearly no openings or weaknesses. But I had been taught by one of the greatest teachers in Amestris in the art wielding a blade; and although I was far from the skill of my teacher, I had learned a great many things.

I drew on my lessons and began to feign weakness and fatigue, hopefully drawing Slicer into over-extending himself into a strike that I could punish. He seemed to fall for my acting, as his attacks became heavier and slightly more extended, pushing me onto the back foot. After one of my parries only just scraped his sword aside he seemed to see his opportunity and drew himself back in order to begin a lethal strike, I readied myself to attack him while he remained in his ready stance.

Before I could make my own strike, Slicer dashed forwards and thrust his blade towards me, it's lethal edge threatening to slice me across the chest. I leaped backwards and watched as his momentum carried him past me, I capitalised on his over-commitment and slashed my sword across his chest, finally striking him with a glancing blow that split the fabric of his shirt and left a bloody slash across his chest.

Slicer recovered from his own strike and spun around to face me, glancing down at his wound before looking back at me.

"First blood is mine Slicer." I uttered, wiping my blade clean on my bandaged arm for emphasis "Give up, you know you are outmatched here."

"Never" Slicer spat on the ground before continuing "I'll carve you into pieces, just you wait!"

With that he gave a cry of rage and charged forwards with a flurry of strikes, I was barely able to resist his fury and turn his blows aside, but his relentless attack left me no room to counter with attacks of my own. But it was clear that his injury had made him somewhat sloppy, his previously flawless stance was now slightly looser, and that was a weakness that I could exploit.

As one of his strikes flew particularly high I saw my opportunity and ducked under the blow, pushing past Slicer until his momentum carried him behind me. Before he could recover from his strike I spun my sword in my grasp and thrust it backwards, the pointed tip burying itself in the back of his knee and bursting through his kneecap in a spray of blood.

Slicer cried out from the pain of this blow and the injury and his momentum sent him flying forwards, landing in a heap a good distance from me. I slowly turned to watch the swordsman turn himself over to face me, though his injury rendered him currently unable to stand.

"You are a worthy adversary Slicer" I spoke, keeping my voice level and calm "But you can't match me, give up now."

To my surprise Slicer just chuckled, his demented laugh echoing throughout the warehouse.

"Maybe, but there's one thing you should know about Slicer." He laughed, pausing only to wipe the blood from his chest wound.

"Oh?" I pretended to sound interested, in reality I was tired of this fool's games "And what might that be?"

"I'm not the only one." He spluttered, before calling out "NOW BROTHER!"

I barely had an instant to reach before I realised what was occurring, I leaped sideways, hoping to avoid whatever blow was coming. A burning slash across my right shoulder alerted me to the other assailant's location, and although I had avoided a lethal blow the attacker had still landed a painful hit on me. I stumbled backwards and grasped my shoulder, spinning to see my new enemy.

The unseen attacker made his way towards the still sitting form of Slicer, seemingly checking him for injuries before turning to face me. The new man was almost identical to Slicer, although his slightly underdeveloped features marked him out as being slightly younger. But it was clear that these two were twin brothers, and for a brief moment I wondered how Central's intelligence department was so inept that they mistook two people for one.

The younger brother helped the older one to his feet, and they both stood faced towards me, similar expressions of malice and insanity on their faces. Each one wore almost identical clothing and they carried their blades in opposite hands, giving the appearance of a reflection to the pair of them.

"So, you see Soldier." The Older Slicer muttered, gritting his teeth in pain as he put weight on his injured leg.

"Slicer has always been a pair." The Younger Slicer finished, grinning before continuing "Me and my brother have been lying, stealing and killing as a pair for years. Do you really think you can beat us both?"

"I know I can." I grinned, my expression invisible under my bandages "A second murderous dog makes no difference to me. I've faced down far greater than you two before."

"We shall see…" The Younger Slicer threatened.

With that the pair crouched into identical, albeit mirrored, stances and charged towards me, blades at the ready. Both brothers alternated between striking at me and stepping back to allow the other to attack, the barrage was overwhelming, and I struggled to evade their blows. I remember my teacher once telling me that the biggest weakness of attacking pairs was the fact that they would get in each other's way, making them less efficient than they would be alone. Clearly my teacher hadn't accounted for a pair of co-ordinated sword-wielding twins, and the devastating effect of their teamwork was obvious.

I raised my own sword and tried to hold back the storm of blows, but the pair thought in a perfectly co-ordinated and balanced way, and before I could react a sword thrust straight towards my head and I was forced to twist out the way, putting myself off-balance. As soon as the pair saw this weakness they exploited it, and within a few blows a blade slid between my hand and the hand-guard of my sword and pulled away, twisting my sword out of my grasp and sending it sliding to the ground far behind the brothers. Before I even had a chance to react to the disarming move a sudden high kick from one of the brothers struck me on the head and sent me flying backwards into one of the crates in the warehouse. The crate cracked on impact and as I landed on my back the contents of the crate, a massive coil of steel cable, spilled from the crate and fell over and around me.

"Is that it?" The Older Slicer chuckled, seemingly unimpressed "You know I was almost impressed for a second, but it seems that you can't stand up to us after all."

"Don't be so sure." I muttered, gritting my teeth and pulling myself to be feet, spilling the steel cable around by feet in the process "I'm afraid I still have a trick up my sleeve."

Before the pair could react, I clapped my hands together, the tell-tale whistling echoing through my ears as my transmutation activated, powered by the truth I had witnessed. I thrust my hands above the steel cable and in a burst of Alchemic energy the cable sprang to life, twisting around like a viper before darting towards the Younger Slicer.

The Younger Slicer's eyes widened at the display of Alchemy, but he was too slow to react as the cable's tip thrust towards him. At my command the cable split into several sharp points, and each one darted forward and pierced a point in his sword arm, bursting through in a spray of gore before retracting back towards me. Each cable had struck and severed a tendon in his arm, and it hung uselessly at his side, his sword falling to the ground from his open grip.

As his brother screamed in pain the Older Slicer could only look towards be in bewilderment as I clapped my hands together and transmuted the cable again, this time pulling a pair of swords from the twisted metal. As his younger brother retrieved his sword with his offhand the Older Slicer readied himself once again, and I held my paired blades forwards in a ready stance.

The two rushed into action once again, but it was clear that they were on the back foot. With both brothers carrying injuries more severe than my own, as well as still being shocked by my display of Alchemy, it was clear that they were far less certain of their victory than they had been moments ago.

The three of us continued to trade blows, but where the pair had once overwhelmed me with their speed and brutality they had now become slowed and sloppy, and I was able to hold the two of them back with my paired blades. The co-ordination of the pair appeared to have diminished as well, and they now occasionally leant into each other or blocked their paths when they attacked, the frustration of their injuries causing them to abandon their previously flawless technique.

The Younger Slicer dashed ahead of his brother and made a wide swing at my neck, I ducked under the blade and slashed both my blades against his chest, leaving a pair of parallel wounds across his chest. Before he could even react, the Older Slicer leaped in to aid his brother, blade at the ready. But he still limped from the injury to his knee, and his resultant loss in mobility allowed me to twist his weapon away with one sword and slash at his face with the other, leaving a shallow gash under his eye.

Both brothers reeled from their injuries and staggered back, giving me time to act out the finishing manoeuvres to our fight. I clapped my hands together with my swords still clutched in them, transmuting the blades back into a length of steel cable. The cable was animated by alchemy still and I tossed it at the Younger Slicer, the agitated metal wrapping around his arms like a great serpent and immobilising him. The pain from the pressure on his injured arm caused him to cry out and drop his blade, the shock of the pain causing him to fall to the ground.

The Older Slicer looked towards his brother with concern and anger, and when he realised the fight was still ongoing his gaze fell to me with a mixture of rage and suppressed fear. When the killer realised that I was now unarmed he charged towards me with wild fury in his eyes, his blade ready to cut me down in a single strike. With no time to form a new weapon I clapped my hands together and held my right palm out to intercept his strike, my open hand crackling with alchemic lightning. Just as Slicer thrust his blade forwards me I completed the transmutation, and as the tip of his blade touched my palm the entire warehouse was filled with a blinding flash of light.

When the light vanished we both remained where we had been, the tip of his blade resting right on my open palm, all momentum from the strike having vanished. With a crack of snapping metal, the ornate blade shattered, the transmutation having splintered the blade into dozens of pieces which now clattered to the ground with a series of metallic clangs.

The Older Slicer looked at me with bewilderment before tossing the useless hilt of his blade to the ground, before I could do anything else however, he thrust his empty hand forwards towards my head. His grasp closed around the goggles that covered my eyes and with a cry of rage he ripped them off my face, taking a handful of bandages with him and tossing the items to the ground.

I cried out in pain and recoiled back, pushing my hand over the exposed area in an attempt to stifle the pain, only to pull it away when I realised the futility of that actions. The Older Slicer chucked at my situation, only for his laughter to fade away when he saw what lay under the bandages that covered my face.

"What…" his voice came in a stammered manner as his eyes widened with fear "What the hell are you?"

I didn't respond, instead I swung my fist out and struck his temple while he was distracted, intent on ending the bought as quickly as possible. The force of the blow combined with his injuries and fatigue knocked the killer down, and before he could recover I transmuted the ground around him to hold him still, finally putting an end to the fight.

I reached down for my discarded bandages and goggles, the bandages were ruined but the goggles were thankfully still intact.

_Click_

I looked up towards the source of the noise, seeing the wounded Sergeant with a look of fear and confusion on her face, and her pistol trained towards me. I stood up straight with my goggles still clutched in my hand, noting with some annoyance that the precious salve that filled them had spilled out.

"I'm sure you've had a difficult experience Sergeant, and you've lost a lot of blood." I muttered, reaching into my belt to retrieve a new vial of the salve "So for that reason I am going to excuse your behaviour towards me, provided you lower your gun right now."

The Sergeant reluctantly lowered her weapon, though she seemed to still be suspicious. I understood why, catching my reflection in a small puddle nearby. All of my face was without skin, formed entirely of raw red flesh; my eyes were without eyelids, and thus my eyes remained open at all times in disturbing expression of torment.

"What happened to you Sir?" The Sergeant asked, sounding woozy and confused.

"I did something terrible a long time ago." I answered as I strapped my goggles back onto my head, the salve in them soothing the constant irritation on my eyes while not impairing my eyesight "This is the price I paid for my mistake."

She nodded briefly before collapsing to the ground, the blood loss finally going to her head. I walked towards her while I wrapped new bandages over the exposed part of my face, when I had finished I knelt down to assess her condition. She would live, but I needed to get her to a hospital, as well as taking the restrained Slicers to the MPs. I sighed before grabbing The Sergeant and carrying her over my shoulder, it seemed my work was unfinished yet.

* * *

I was finally back at the cordon; the unconscious Sergeant had been loaded into an ambulance cart and sent to a hospital. I had given her an official commendation that would be sent to her commanding officer, both for her genuine bravery and in the hope that it would incentivise her into not revealing what she had discovered about me.

The Slicer Brothers had been taken by the MPs, and when I asked what would happen to them I was simply told that they would be sent back to Central to be tried and executed, and as far as I was concerned, that was where my involvement in the matter ended. The killers had been stopped and captured and North City could sleep easy, so it wasn't really my concern as to what happened to them in Central.

It seemed my brief sojourn to North City had concluded, and I was looking forwards to leaving the place and returning to the place I called home. I bid farewell to the MPs and Soldiers at the cordon before walking back down the street I had arrived from, hoping that I would be able to find transport at this late hour.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Catalyst**

* * *

Central City: 13/04/1899

_Mr. Richter Gotz_

_Your application to take the State Alchemist examination was received by my office today, and I must say I am pleased to see that we still have such fine young minds in our great nation._

_Your proposed transmutation that you detailed in your letter intrigued me greatly, and I believe that, should you be able to complete it, it would be a suitable example of your skill, and it would serve as a means of entry into the State Alchemist program. While I am confident that you will be able to complete this transmutation, I am unfortunately unable to give you a date for your examination until this has been achieved._

_On a somewhat brighter note, the recommendation from your Father, Colonel Herman Gotz, should assist with your application. I am glad to see that Colonel Gotz' son plans to follow him into the military, although through a different path._

_I am sure that you will make a fine addition to the State Alchemist Program, and I hope that the presence of a new generation in this program will help legitimise it in the eyes of Central. Though this program is still young, it has already been immensely useful to Amestris, and I hope that this usefulness will only increase as time goes on and the program grows._

_It is my hope that people will admire and respect State Alchemists, and that they will become fully accepted as a branch of The Military._

_Best of luck to you Richter, and I look forwards to meeting you in person when you have finalised your transmutation._

_Lieutenant Colonel Basque Grand, acting head of State Alchemist Program._

* * *

The Letter I had received from Central Command a few weeks ago sat at my desk, buried amongst dozens of alchemical texts, research papers and sketches. Since I had received the letter I had worked tirelessly to complete the transmutation that would gain me entry into the State Alchemist program.

The transmutation in question was a theory I had been working on for quite some time, it would convert sweat and other excess chemicals into Adrenaline. This would allow anybody using the transmutation to perform great feats of endurance and strength, and the user would be able to use the transmutation several times without any negative effects, that was the theory at least. The design of the circle was such that even non-Alchemists would be able to use the circle just by tapping it, and this could serve as a way to make Alchemy more common and accepted.

Of course, the military would want to use this transmutation for their soldiers. According to the officers and State Alchemists that had spoken to me, it would save the lives of Amestrian Soldiers all over and make the State Military far more effective. This concerned me somewhat, as although I wasn't against the State Military I didn't want to become an Alchemist under the pretence of supplying new ways to help the Military.

However, the transmutation was imperfect, something about the chemical conversion was going wrong and causing some… unwanted side effects. The first time I tried the transmutation on myself I passed out and gave myself a headache that lasted three days. Since that incident I had struggled to make any improvements to the transmutation, and the texts I had borrowed from Central Library had provided hardly sufficient in helping me untangle the subject.

My train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and closing, and the voice of my father calling from the hallway.

"Victor, they let me out early!" He called, his speech sounding somewhat uneven.

He walked into the room I was sitting in, looking over the texts I had spread over the table before taking a seat opposite me.

"Any luck on the transmutation?" He asked, placing his elbows on the table, taking care not to disturb any of my texts.

"A little." I muttered, looking up from my texts "It's still not perfect, but at least it doesn't do anything negative to the user anymore."

"I see…" He trailed off, looking out of the windows with his face somewhat disturbed. Something was clearing out of the ordinary, so I set aside my writing materials and notes and looked up at him.

"Dad, What's wrong?" I asked, something had clearly bothered him, and it was unusual for me to see him in such a state.

He didn't reply immediately, instead he stood up and looked outside quickly before closing the windows. He checked around the sparsely furnished room before sitting down again, a worried look covering his face.

"I overhead something at Central Command today, two Major Generals talking about something odd. Something, Alchemy related…"

"I see." I replied, this had caught my attention "What were they talking about?"

"Strange things." He muttered, lowering his voice and leaning in further "They were talking about The Philosophers Stone."

"What?" My eyes widened "Why would the military be chasing a rumour such as that?"

"I don't know, but the way they were talking about it, it couldn't be anything good."

"I see." I rubbed my eyes in an attempt to concentrate "Do you think they could be searching for one for more power?"

"Possibly." He whispered, his face pale with concern "But I'm worried about what this means."

This sounded bad, the Philosopher's Stone was supposed to be a perfect alchemic material, capable of enhancing alchemy to an unknown extent. Many people had devoted their lives to searching for the stone, but a military presence behind the search was worrisome to say the least. I wasn't sure what the military intended, but it likely involved the burgeoning State Alchemists program. If the Stone was even partly as potent as the legends suggested, and the military intended to give it to a State Alchemist, the feats that they would be capable of would be beyond anything seen in Alchemy.

"There's something else." He muttered, eyes filled with thought "There's something I managed to recover."

He reached into the pocket of his military uniform, only to pause when he realised that his pocket was empty.

"Damn, I must have left it in my office." He paused before continuing "I'll just have to go and fetch it."

Before I could say anything, he ran for the door, and I quickly stood up and followed him.

"Dad!" I called out, causing him to pause halfway out of the door. He looked up at me, and in that instant, I realised that there was something else he wasn't telling me. "Stay safe."

He nodded before continuing on, muttering something incomprehensible and closing the door behind him, leaving me standing alone in the hallway. Whatever he was looking for was complex enough that it couldn't be described, and dangerous enough that he thought he could only tell me. Whatever this information was, it was clearly a highly prized and dangerous State Secret, one that could cause my father trouble with the Military if they found him with the document. In that instant I was left with an overwhelming feeling of dread, and I have never felt more helpless than in that moment.

* * *

Central Military Graveyard: 24/04/1899

Colonel Herman Gotz

21/09/1850-13/04/1899

Killed before his time

Now he joins his Wife in the beyond

Those four lines were all that remained of my Father, four lines of text to commemorate the man who had raised me single handed into the man I was today. There was so much more that needed to be said, so many more things that needed to be told about him, but four lines were all he received.

I watched in silence as the coffin containing his body was laid into the plot of ground, my mind barely even registering the men shovelling dirt onto the casket as I retreated into my own thoughts. Only when the coffin disappeared from sight did I come back to my senses and took in the scene around me.

He had been buried next to Mom at my own request, I hoped that they would appreciate that, wherever they are now. I hoped that they were both proud of me, even though I never met her, and I had grown a little distant from him in recent months. I wasn't even sure if there was a life after this one, and my inner scientist scoffed at the very notion. But for a brief moment, I pushed my own logic aside; hoping against reason that there was something else, something that would allow the two of them to meet again.

Dozens of men in Military Garb stood in attendance, even Fuhrer Bradley himself had come, his one eye unreadable below his peaked cap. The men here were of a high rank, Colonels and Generals stood side-by-side to honour the departure of their fellow officer. It was unusual to see this many officers together, and the presence of Fuhrer was even stranger.

I was clearly out of place amongst the distinctly military affair, and it showed. But I was the only family member they could find, so my presence at such a gathering of officers was accepted. The Officers must have thought I didn't notice when they occasionally looked my way, throwing glances of sympathy at the only one who wasn't part of the military, at the 18-year-old civilian who was now all alone in the world.

For my part, I tried to avoid any emotion, it wouldn't do to break down at this event. I wouldn't break the decorum of the event by failing to keep my emotions in check, so I stayed silent, listening as several officers gave speeches about how brave and valiant Colonel Herman Gotz was, little time was given to his personality or private life, they preferred to focus on his military career. I was barely listening the any of the speeches, and only when the speeches ended, and the rifle salute was given, signalling the end of the event, did I snap out of my stupor and focus my thoughts once again.

One by one the officers dispersed, some placing a hand on my shoulder briefly or muttering words of sympathy. I couldn't bring myself to respond to any of them, all I could do was think of what the MPs who had delivered the news had said to me.

_"A tragic accident."_

An accident, that's all it was to them, an accident. Somebody had come across my father on his way home and shot him, all for the Cens in his wallet. That's what they had told me, just a random mugging in Central, there were plenty others. Crime in Central was still an issue despite their best efforts, that's what they told me, they also assured me that they would catch the perpetrator within a few days, though I had heard nothing from them since then.

But that wasn't true, it couldn't have been true. He wasn't the kind of man to just die in an accident, something else had happened, something related to the news he had brought me on the day of his death. Whatever evidence he was going to give me had been lost, I had discreetly looked into his office a few days ago and found it clean of any interesting documents or files.

My mind spun with possibilities and theories even as the last of the attendees paced away, leaving me alone at the gravesite. I knew that I would never be able to find out what my father was going to show me by myself, whoever had killed him would certainly have taken or destroyed that document. The only person who would be able to tell me the truth of the matter was my father himself, and there was no way I would be able to talk to him again.

Unless…

No, I couldn't. To break the greatest taboo and attempt human transmutation was something that many had attempted before, and it certainly hadn't worked well for anyone else, so why would I be so foolish as to attempt such a thing?

Because I had to…

That was the fact of the matter, I had no choice but to attempt this greatest taboo of alchemy and resurrect the dead, for the simple fact that it was the only recourse left available to me. There was no other way for me to talk to him again besides this most radical of options, and I needed to talk to him.

Something had rattled my father so greatly that he felt the only course of action left available to him was to smuggle documents out of Central Command and bring them to me, a young civilian with no notable skills except my knowledge of alchemy. He clearly felt that nobody else in the military could be trusted with this knowledge, so he brought it to me, maybe in the hope that I would be able to discern something that he couldn't.

Whatever was going on, it was based in Alchemy. The search for the Philosophers Stone was unremarkable, many had sought it in the past, and the Military probably just sought to weaponize it or give it to a State Alchemist. No, the Stone was unimportant, whatever the other piece of information was, that was what mattered here. And to obtain that piece of information I needed to speak to my father again.

As I stood beside the graves of my only family, already beginning to work out the start of human transmutation, I wondered one thing, one doubt clouded my mind. How many others had been forced into attempting this as well, only to fail?

I pushed those doubts aside, I couldn't afford to fail. Whatever was going on in Central would have to wait, I had my own problems to attend to, and I would succeed, or die trying.

I walked away from the graves with a sense of purpose in my steps, a sense that I hadn't arrived with. It would be a lot of work, and it might get me killed, but it was the only option, and I had to succeed.

* * *

Basement of the Gotz Residence: 17/07/1899

It was done, after months of research and theorising I had finally completed the transmutation circle that would lead to the answers I sought. It had taken a great deal of time and effort to refine the formula and create the transmutation, but I was now certain of the validity of the circle laying before me.

It was easily the most complex array I had ever created, and perhaps even the most complex I had ever seen. It resembled a great vortex, with each element of the construction leading into the centre of the circle. On the outside of the circle lay three layers of complex alchemic runes, their meaning heavily entwined with ancient philosophy and alchemic teachings and texts.

Each element of the construction was held in a metal dish of identical size, with each dish containing a single element in a precisely measured quantity, from vast amounts of water and carbon, to tiny granules of Silicon. Calculating the elements had been difficult in its own right, and I had spent weeks working out the precise numbers required to construct a human body. The resources at Central Library had been helpful, but I had to be cautious to avoid provoking the attention of anybody that might have realised what I was planning, so I had borrowed heaps of useless books that I was yet to return. In the end I found the answers I was looking for, a basic anatomical textbook that I had borrowed on a whim, only to find that the author had helpfully calculated the chemical composition of a human body and put the information into his book.

I had accumulated the resources fairly easily, though again I was cautious, and purchased the more unusual resources from several different vendors in excessive amounts in order to allay suspicion. Still, the task was done now, and the elements all lay before me in their containers, ready for their use.

I reached for the book containing the list of elements required for a human body and scanned through the list, checking off each element individually as I saw it laying in front of me.

Water- 35 Litres  
Carbon- 20 Kilos  
Ammonia- 4 Litres  
Lime- 1.5 Kilos  
Phosphorus- 800 Grams  
Salt- 250 Grams  
Potassium Nitrate- 100 Grams  
Sulphur- 80 Grams  
Fluorine- 7.5 Grams  
Iron- 5 Grams  
Silicon- 3 Grams

These ingredients weren't all that were needed, according to my theory the transmutation would require some evidence of which body it was required to construct, as it would likely just create a random person otherwise. To this end I found one of my father's combs in his now abandoned bedroom, and the hair from it should serve the transmutation's requirements. The hair lay in the centre of the circle, and it would serve as the focal point of the transmutation.

Everything seemed to be prepared, I had been checking the circle for a few hours now, and everything was perfectly laid out. I was certain that the theory was perfect, if human transmutation was possible, then this was the way to do it.

The dark interior of the basement was hardly welcoming, but it would serve well enough for the purposes of this transmutation. I also thought that if the transmutation failed I would find myself unable to return to the sight of my failure, and so I would be able to keep this room out of sight, doubly so if I succeeded.

Before I initiated the transmutation, I reached for a glass of Whiskey that I had plundered from the liquor cabinet upstairs, I had never been one for alcohol before, but I felt the need to steady my nerves somewhat. I downed the liquid in a single motion, the burning sensation from the liquor focusing my mind somewhat towards the task at hand.

It was time, I knew that if I delayed myself any more then I would find an excuse to put off performing the transmutation, and I couldn't afford to be delayed. I set aside the empty glass and knelt at the edge of the transmutation circle, rolling up the sleeve of my white shirt to mentally ready myself.

For a split second I hesitated, my hands hovering a few inches above the circle. I realised that this was the turning point, if I was successful then I would open up a new frontier in alchemy, proving that science could be used to reverse the course of death. But I would also have broken the greatest taboo in all of Alchemy, as well as Military Law.

I pushed these doubts aside, this needed to be done. I needed to see my father again, I needed the information he held, I needed to stop being alone, I needed to perform this transmutation.

I pushed my hands on the circle, activating the transmutation and watching as alchemic lightning lit up the basement and surged around the circle. The elements that had been placed in the metal dishes surged towards the centre, forming a mass of energy that seemed to be forming into a more distinct shape. It was working!

Then the lightning changed, twisting and darkening into inky black strands that emerged from the circle. A feeling of cold and numbness overtook my body, freezing me in place even as I tried desperately to pull my hands away and end the transmutation.

"No." I whispered, my voice cracked and filled with fear "A rebound? It can't be!"

No, this was worse than a rebound. Whatever was happening now was something that I had never seen or heard of before, and that uncertainty terrified me to know end, just what had I done?

I could see now that the black strands ended in tiny hands, and as they twisted and twirled around each other several of them moved towards me, the hands open as if grasping for something. As the strands wrapped around my outstretched arms the hands dug into my skin, each point of contact burning with an icy cold. I cried out in pain and terror as more and more of the hands latched onto me, and I could see that they were pulling away at my skin, transmutation marks emerged from the points of contact, slowly transforming my body.

While I was in agony I was still conscious enough to see what was happening on the circle, which was now lit with an eerie purple energy that filled the basement. The centre of the circle flashed with bright white light, and I watched in terror as an enormous eye opened, its inhuman gaze fixed forwards as it emerged from the centre of the circle.

At the arrival of the eye the hands became seemingly more agitated, and they surged around me, each one jostling to latch onto me. I cried out even as they covered my vision, and in an instant, everything stopped.

* * *

Somewhere Unknown

The first thing I saw was a blinding white, in fact, that was all that I could see in any direction. I seemed to be inside some kind of white void, though I had never seen this place, I was instantly filled with confusion and dread. The pain had stopped as well, I noted that with some relief, but the confusion remained

"Where the hell am I?" I wondered aloud, my voice hoarse from screaming just moments earlier.

"I'm so glad you could join me." A voice called from behind me, and I immediately spun around to face it.

A featureless white figure stood a few metres away, and behind it was a great stone door, at least 5 Metres high and covered in alchemic symbols. The figure was… odd to say the least. It was the same colour as the void I stood in, and it was only visible due to a black outline that surrounded it. The only feature of the figure was a large, toothy grin that leered at me, the expression visible even without eyes.

"Who are you?" I asked, a pit of dread forming in my stomach

"Oh, I'm called many things young alchemist." It grinned, its voice a cacophony of overlapping tones "I am The World, I am The One, I am The Gate, I am God, I am Truth… and I am You."

My eyes widened, and I stepped back at the statement, fear once again overtaking me.

"You have dared to commit the taboo and have knocked at The Gate." It smiled, opening its arms wide in a disturbing embrace "Well now The Gate has opened, and you must witness what lays beyond."

The Gate behind the creature swung open, and the eye I had witnessed in the basement lay behind it, gazing unflinchingly at me. The black hands from earlier shot out of the gate, speeding towards me with palms open. I was unable to move from where I was stood, fear paralysed me, and I barely reacted as the hands grasped me and started pulling me towards the open gate.

"You have made your choice Alchemist." The Truth spoke, turning to face me.

I cried out as I was pulled into The Gate, and as the titanic doors began to close, I heard the final words of The Truth.

"Now witness The Truth." It echoed, the voice fading until I was left alone in the utter darkness of The Gate.

After an instant in the dark my vision was lit up again, ribbons of light surrounded me, each one filled with images and information of every type. It felt like every piece of knowledge in the world was being forced into my mind, the horrifying information forever burned into my soul.

I saw glimpses of the Past, Present, and what must have been the Future. I glanced closer into the Future, seeing a figure covered in bandages and wearing a military uniform. The figure stood at the head of an army, each and every soldier trusting him utterly. The figure was surrounded by snow and ice, and immense alchemic power crackled at his fingertips. He stood beside another figure, and although this one was clouded, the great bond of trust and experience the two shared was evident.

The figure faded out of view, replaced with more and more knowledge that flooded into my mind. The hands kept my eyes pried open and fixed my head in place, ensuring that I would be unable to look away from the constant flow of images for even an instant.

It was too much, my mind screamed at the overwhelming pressure of the knowledge, and I felt as if I would be unable to withstand the pressure for even a second more. The pressure of the knowledge kept coming, filling my mind with terrible truths and unspoken words, the knowledge tore at me, the true horror of my actions coming to light.

The final pieces of information flowed into my mind and for a brief instant, I had clarity over the situation. Every piece of knowledge settled into one massive piece, and everything seemed to make sense.

In that moment, I understood The Truth.

Then it stopped, and I found myself standing outside The Gate once again, the white void replacing the darkness I was in just an instant ago.

"How was it?" Questioned the truth, the enjoyment in its voice was evident.

I didn't answer right away, I was inspecting The Gate, now able to better comprehend the image upon the gate. The Gate depicted a swirling vortex made of thousands of strands of text at its base, each line describing a fundamental rule of Alchemy. As the strands moved upwards they solidified into a hand covered in symbols of Alchemy, each symbol appeared to be carved directly into the flesh of the hand, showing the price of the knowledge. The hand itself was stretched upwards, grasping towards a Sun depicted at the top of The Gate. The Sun was bare, aside from a single etched symbol representing forbidden knowledge. The symbolism of it was clear to me, and I turned to face The Truth.

"I see." I whispered, my voice still unsteady "So it is possible, but an even greater toll must be paid?"

The Truth simply nodded, though I could sense a malignant intention in its invisible features.

"Please, I must see it again!" I shouted, the knowledge I had earned was great, but it was clear that I was merely at the cusp of a greater discovery.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that." My heart sank, and I saw The Truth grin "That's all you get for the toll you have paid."

"Toll?" I asked, confusion and dread filling my mind.

"Of course, that's how equivalent exchange works, isn't that right Alchemist."

My mind filled with horror as I saw skin forming over The Truth, blank features replaced by a face, my face! It was devoid of eyes or a mouth, but it was clearly me, The Truth was covered entirely in my own skin.

I could hardly bear to look down and confirm my greatest fear, but I raised my hands and confirm my fear. My hands were now without skin, raw red flesh was visible, and blood ran freely over my arms. I looked down and saw that my entire body had suffered a similar fate, bright red blood already soaking through my clothes. It was then I realised that I couldn't even close my eyes, or my mouth; eyelids and cheeks had been taken as well, leaving exposed eyes and teeth.

In an instant I was back in the basement, and the pure horror of my experience washed over me for a second as I was left to bask in the terrible consequences of my sin.

Then the pain started.

* * *

_Author's Note: I struggled writing this chapter somewhat, as I was unsure of the how I should pace this part of the story. I eventually settled on the snapshot style similar to the one used in the show to avoid the story being bogged down in the beginning for several chapters, and although I'm not completely happy with this chapter I feel that this was the best path of action. At the least I can say I am fairly confident that the following chapters will be an improvement._

_Now, I have assessed my schedule and I am happy to say that I will be able to update this story at a regular pace. So, I can guarantee an update every Monday at 9PM GMT (that's 4PM US Eastern or 1PM US Western), some weeks may allow for more than one chapter to be released a week, but I can guarantee a minimum of one chapter. I can't really say when double chapters will occur, so you will only find out when they are released. Also, occasionally things happen in life, things that will mean I cannot upload. Though these things are unavoidable I will at least try and give you some notice when these things are going to happen, but I will try to minimise these disruptions. I will also do everything to ensure this story ends properly, as nothing wounds me more than seeing a great piece of FanFic that ends abruptly._

_Lastly, I'd like to thank everybody who Viewed, Favourited and Followed my story, even though it was only a teaser chapter. To see that people were willing to give my story a chance so early on was very uplifting, and it definitely served to motivate me here, so thank you all. I would also appreciate any comments and criticism that people could leave, as I am always looking to improve my writing technique._

_See you next week, where the consequences of Richter's actions become clear. I hope that you all have a good week!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Consequences**

* * *

Basement of the Gotz Residence: 17/07/1899

Pain.

All of my senses were overwhelmed in agony, for what felt like hours, all I could do was scream and convulse. My entire body felt like it was being bathed in liquid fire, and it seemed to never lessen or recede. My senses were being utterly overwhelmed, and It took an immense amount of time for me to even get my bearings and see what was in front of me, and when I did, all I could see was one thing.

Blood, so much blood.

The small part of my mind that was still able to function properly told me that I couldn't survive that much blood loss for long, though my mind offered no such solution to the matter. Any attempt at movement sent even more pain through my system, so I would likely be unable to do anything to slow the flow of blood anyway.

The pain hadn't lessened at all, even though my body should have gone into shock by now at the sheer amount of trauma I was experiencing. The fact that this hadn't happened yet was concerning, was it possible that whatever had happened to me had left my body unable to function properly?

I tried to crawl towards the basement stairs, hoping that I would have the strength to get up them and call somebody to help me. My efforts were immediately thwarted when I made my first movement, and even more agony shot through me, the shock of which threw me back to the ground, causing even more pain in the process.

I was barely able to look back towards the transmutation circle on the ground behind me, and what I saw shocked me even more than what had already transpired. The circle was inactive, and the eye and black tendrils were gone, in the centre of the circle lay a small pile of human bones and flesh, twisted and deformed into a twisted parody of life. The thing stared unblinkingly at me with bright red eyes, before they flickered shut, the creature was evidently unable to sustain itself due to its twisted construction.

The thought that this was my father burst through my mind, was this what my transmutation had produced? The creature was almost unrecognisable as a human, but some pieces of human anatomy could be seen, making it seem at least partially human. It seemed that this thing was the result of my attempt at human transmutation, it shocked me to see that I had failed so drastically.

Worse still, the transmutation had clearly rebounded violently. Excluding my personal injuries, excess alchemic lightning flickered around the basement, and the building was clearly damaged by the transmutation. Every few seconds I could hear the earth shift around me as the cracks in the walls and ceiling grew more pronounced. My mind was briefly filled with concern for the people that lived in the floors above me, just how many lives had I ruined or endangered with this foolish errand?

The pain shot back into my system, disrupting my thoughts and leaving me screaming in agony once again. Blood began to drip into my left eye, and without eyelids I was unable to do anything but watch as half my vision clouded over in a red mist. I tried to clear the blood away, but any movement simply sent me into the throes of agony again.

I was left unable to do anything other than lay on the cold stone floor of the basement, waiting for my injuries to finally claim me. It seemed like hours had passed, though my senses were so overwhelmed it could have been anything from minutes to days and I wouldn't know the difference. Just when I thought that I might finally slip away, I started to hear speech above me, and if I focused I could make out some of the words, though they were muffled by the distance between us and the constant throbbing in my ears.

"Sir, we have to get out of here, this building could collapse any second!" The voice was male and sounded panicked. Was the building in danger? Just how much had my transmutation backfired?

"We're not leaving yet soldier, I've still got one more place to look through." This voice was female and filled with a calm authority.

Focusing on the voices above me allowed me to ignore some of the pain, and even this brief respite filled me with the tiniest glimmer of hope. I heard the door to the basement swing open, and I used the last of my strength to drag myself towards the bottom of the stair, each movement sending a new shot of agony through my body. I heard heavy footsteps coming down the stair, only to abruptly pause, presumably when whoever it was caught sight of me.

"My god…" The female voice muttered, fear and surprise evident in her tone.

"What is it?" The male voice called from further up "Major Armstrong, what is it Sir?"

I lifted my head as best I could towards the woman, Major Armstrong apparently. All I could make out was the military uniform, and the raw horror in her eyes at the sight of me.

"Help…Me…" I groaned, struggling to form words. I lifted a bloody hand towards her in a desperate attempt to escape my torment. She stepped back slightly in shock, though my appearance was clearly not enough to completely deter her.

And with that movement expending the last of my strength, I fell back into the madness and agony that had consumed me before, barely aware of what was going on around me.

* * *

Central Hospital: 17/07/1899

When I came back to consciousness all I could see was white, and for a brief moment of terror I thought that I had returned to The Gate. My vision focused, and I calmed down slightly when I saw that I was inside some sort of medical facility. My calm was immediately shattered when the agony I had felt before came back with a vengeance, my convulsions were stopped by restraints around my arms and legs, the thick leather straps cutting into me and causing even more pain to fill my system.

As soon as I started screaming again I was surrounded by half a dozen masked doctors, all leaning over me with expressions of fear and disbelief on their faces. One of them reached towards me with a syringe and plunged it into my arm, a numb feeling coursing from the point of contact telling me that I had been injected with morphine.

As the pain started to recede I felt myself skirt to the edge of consciousness, though I managed to at least stay awake. Strangely, my fear of falling asleep was far greater than my fear of feeling the pain again. As I fought to stay awake, I focused in on the voices of the doctors, using them as an anchor to stay awake.

"…Never seen injuries like it…"

"…No way he should still be alive, what happened to him…"

"…Chemical explosion, apparently. Those don't look like any chemical burns I've ever seen though…"

"…No way those are burns, though that's what the Major said…"

One voice cut through the chatter, filled with more confidence than the others.

"None of this matters right now, what he needs is a Transfusion. If he doesn't get fresh blood into his system soon, he'll die."

There was silence for a second as the doctors considered this, before there was a general sound of assent, and they sprang into action. I barely felt the blood being drawn from my arm as one of the doctors leaned over me to collect some blood, I noted with some irony that he probably could have got some from anywhere around me at this point.

The blood was fed into some sort of test tube, which the doctor stared at for a few seconds before apparently seeing a result.

"Shit." The doctor muttered, the utterance causing everyone else in the room to turn towards him, he looked at the tube again before continuing "It's O negative."

"We're all out of O Negative!" one of the doctors yelled from across the room "It's too rare and the military has had it shipped down South for the war!"

The noise rose again as the doctors loudly debated the course of action they should pursue. In all honesty, this terrified me a great deal, if even the best doctors in Amestris were running around like headless chickens, what chance did I have?

"I'm O Negative." A voice spoke out, the doctors and I turned towards the source of the voice. It came from the female Major who had seen me in the basement, who was now standing in the doorway to the treatment room I was lying in.

As soon as she spoke a clutch of doctors moved towards her, seemingly asking if she was willing to give her blood, which she nodded to. Strangely, her gaze was fixed on me the whole time they were talking, her eyes filled with a mixture of pity and concern that seemed at odds with her military appearance.

Within a few minutes there was a tube running between the two of us, the lifesaving blood travelling into my arm. The Major sat down on the bed across from me, keeping calm even as doctors ran around me, trying to stop the flow of blood from my injuries, lest their efforts be wasted entirely.

My arms had been unbuckled from their straps to enact the procedure, and I weakly lifted one of them towards the Major to try and attract her attention. When she looked over to me I gathered my strength in order to attempt speech.

"Thank you." I whispered, each word stinging my hoarse and injured throat.

She simply nodded at the remark, though there was still some sympathy in her expression. With that last gesture I felt my strength leave me again, and I was filled with a sense of déjà vu before I fell back into unconsciousness, the delirium providing a strange mixture of comfort and agony.

* * *

Central Command: 21/07/1899

_Olivier Mira Armstrong was feeling a strange mixture of emotions at the series of events that had unfolded over the past few days. It had certainly been the strangest week of her short military career, and all the experience passed down the Armstrong family couldn't have prepared her for what she had found in that basement._

_That boy… he was barely a year younger than her, but he had clearly attempted human transmutation, the greatest taboo in all of Alchemy. Olivier wasn't an alchemist herself, but it had been passed down her family for generations, and it seemed that her idiot younger brother was to learn the art from her father. Though she was inexperienced in the art, Olivier knew what a terrible thing human transmutation was, and what she had seen in that basement had confirmed her beliefs._

_The results of his attempted transmutation were clear to see, and the horrific creature that had been created was barely human. But what had happened to the boy was even more disturbing, Olivier had been told that anybody that attempted human transmutation would pay a terrible price, but she never imagined that such a terrible thing could happen to somebody._

_She wasn't sure why she had covered for his mistake, but the sight of the injured Alchemist begging for her help had earned her sympathy. She had lied to the MPs and told her that a 'chemical explosion' was what had injured the alchemist and later collapsed his house. When the building was dug through the day after, she had called in family favours to ensure that the basement was cleared of any evidence of human transmutation._

_She had even given blood to help him survive, an action that was by no way required by the military, though it had earned her the gratitude of the doctors in the hospital. She had no idea if the alchemist was still alive, and she was equally unsure as to why these events were still playing through her mind._

_Her train of though was interrupted when a soldier walked into her office, holding a bundle of papers._

_"Lieutenant-Colonel." He said, his voice the stereotypical military tone "Congratulations on your promotion."_

_Ah yes, Olivier thought, the promotion. It was the culmination of her efforts over the past few months and saving a building full of civilians from a 'Chemical Explosion' was just what she needed to push her rising rank over the edge. It grated at her somewhat to think that her new rank was earned by a lie, but she knew that she had worked hard for this rank, and she intended to earn her new rank ten times over with her actions._

_"The MPs wondered if you had any clues on the guy you found in that building?" The soldier asked, snapping Olivier out of her thoughts. "They still haven't found anything in the building."_

_Olivier was happy to hear that her ruse had succeeded, and that she had been successful in finding out more information than the MPs._

_"I'm afraid not." She replied, not allowing her satisfaction to show "And I heard that he died last night, so that's pretty much our last lead gone."_

_The soldier nodded and walked out of Olivier's office, closing the door behind him. Once again Olivier found herself feeling confused at her own actions, why had she lied about his death? As far as she knew, he had survived the transfusion, though she hadn't heard anything else since then. As well as that, she had found a lead, his name. Richter Gotz, son of the late Colonel Herman Gotz. Olivier assumed that Richter was trying to resurrect his father, though as to why he would attempt such a thing surely went beyond mere grief._

_Olivier decided that she needed to think on this situation further, and she certainly needed to converse with this Richter should he have survived his ordeal. But for now, she needed to deal with all the paperwork surrounding the incident, it wasn't like a person could just vanish without some significant meddling in military records._

* * *

Central Hospital: 12/08/1899

Consciousness came slowly, the past days had been little but a jumbled mess of confusion and blurred memories, with little to hold them together besides the passage of time. This time was different though, it was as if I was finally coming back to myself. My vision came slowly into focus, though I still found myself unable to blink, showing that I was still under the effects of my curse from The Gate.

The pain, it was gone. Well, not gone exactly, but it was far muted from what I had experienced before. Somehow it had faded, even though I was acutely aware that my injuries hadn't been cured. Still, the reprieve from the agony was a great relief, and I found myself feeling almost serenely calm and content for a few moments. As soon as I was more aware, I realised that the pain had intensified somewhat, thought it was far more bearable than before.

I groaned loudly and stretched my arms out, only pausing when I saw what was covering them. Bandages covered every inch of my arms, they were intricately wrapped around my arms and fingers, not allowing even a fraction of my flesh to show.

A gasp to the right of me and the sound of footsteps away from me caused me to realise my surroundings, I was in the same hospital bed as before, but the addition of several other pieces of medical apparatus around me altered me even more to the passage of time.

I pulled myself into a more seated position, my bones aching from the long period of inactivity, but I eventually managed the slight movement. When I had reached this position, I saw that the rest of my body was bandaged as well, and blindly feeling my head caused me to realise that I must have been entirely covered to prevent any further blood loss.

When my hands reached my eyes I felt something different, a cold metallic object covered my eyes, though I could clearly still see well enough. I saw a small hand mirror laying on the table beside my hospital bed, and I reached for it, intent on seeing the full extent of my transformation.

The reflection that I saw was something straight out of a Penny Dreadful, my entire head was wrapped tightly in these bandages as well, and a set of antique-looking brass goggles covered my eyes, a thick leather strap around the back of my head bound them to my face. The sense of anonymity from my own reflection was disquieting to say the least, and the absence of any human features beyond general impressions caused my appearance to seem even more unusual.

"Ah Sir, I see you're awake." A voice came from the door, causing me to place the mirror back on the table and look towards the source of the voice.

One of the doctors I had noticed several times before in my addled state stood at the door, behind him was a nurse who I assumed had been the one beside me before she realised I had awoken. The doctor was wearing rather more civilian clothes than I had seen him in before, suggesting he had been grabbed while he was leaving the hospital. He sat down on one of the chairs facing my bed and placed his hands together, seemingly unsure of how to begin the conversation.

"So, how are you feeling." He muttered, seemingly aware of how odd that question was in current circumstances.

"Well, much better than I was before." I replied, "It seems like I'm able to think clearly for the first time in weeks."

"That makes sense." He said, reaching for a medical chart "To be honest, the trauma you experienced is like nothing I've ever seen before, it makes sense that it could cause some delirium, possibly even memory loss."

That last bit was worrying, but as I mentally trawled through my memories I found nothing amiss, so it was possible that he was wrong on that count, or that there was a lost memory that was yet to be discovered.

"Now, I'm sure you have a lot of questions about your… condition." The doctor said, looking up from his chart back towards me.

"Yes." I replied, questions already filling my head "I'm not exactly sure where to begin though."

"Well, I'll do my best to explain what procedures we had to perform, though I warn you that it might get a bit confusing at times, we basically had to invent some new procedures for you."

I simply nodded it his remarks, it was clear that there had been an immense effort to keep me alive, I would have to express my gratitude properly when the time came.

"Well, I suppose the bandages are the most obvious place to start." The doctor remarked, gesturing to the coverings that enveloped my body "We found them to be the best way to keep you from suffering any further blood loss, they've been reinforced and implanted with silver dust."

"Silver dust?" I asked, more than a little confused at the inclusion of such a bizarre component "Why is that necessary?"

"Silver has recently been found to be useful at preventing infection, especially in particle form. Your… injuries leave you particularly vulnerable to infection, so we thought that it was a sensible precaution to take."

That made sense, in my alchemy studies I had never paid much attention to silver's properties, but I had heard of the medical applications of the metal nonetheless. It was good to hear that it was being put to use already, as such an invention could save a lot of lives.

"We've also added a secondary layer to the bandages making contact with your skin." The doctor continued, snapping me out of my train of thought. "It should reduce irritation somewhat, we tried to come up with a solution that would at least allow you to live comfortably enough."

"I see, thank you." I replied, already feeling somewhat relived at the news that I wouldn't have to spend the rest of my life at a hospital.

"Now I suppose I should talk about the goggles…" He trailed off, reaching for another chart.

Ah, the goggles. Now I was pondering their purpose as well, as they were certainly a strange addition to the ensemble that I was clad in, and it made my appearance all the more alien.

"We needed a way to protect your eyes, without eyelids it was almost a guarantee that they would be damaged or infected within a few days, and this was the solution we came up with."

This was concerning to say the least, it was clear that what the being called Truth had done to be was thorough in the extreme, and the implications of these injuries were dire indeed.

"The goggles are filled with a medical salve, it should keep your eyes from being damaged or irritated, while hopefully still being clear enough to allow you to see properly. Can you see me properly?"

It took a second for me to focus, but I could. Though my vision was somewhat blurry on the edges, I could clearly make out the doctor.

"Yes." I answered, still focusing "There's some blurriness in the corners of my vision but the overall image is clear."

"Good, that's good to hear." The doctor replied, scribbling down notes on one of his forms "The blurriness should clear up in time, your eyes are still becoming used to this new environment, but they will adapt eventually."

That was a relief to say the least, I was scarcely used to my current situation, so hearing that I had avoided going blind was some comfort in my situation. But there was one other question that I still had, though in the back of my mind I dreaded the answer.

"Doctor, I need to know." I paused briefly, deliberating on how to continue before I did so "How long will it take before these injuries heal, I'm aware that they are extensive, but surely time will heal the wounds?"

The doctor bowed his head slightly in discomfort, clearly whatever he was about to say wasn't something that I wanted to hear. There was a long silence between the two of us before he eventually straightened back up and spoke.

"Well that's just it." He finally replied, eyes hidden behind his reflective glasses "We've tried all we could, but no matter what techniques we tried, it seems your body is unwilling or unable to heal. Your flesh should at least of began to develop a new layer of skin, but for whatever reason that hasn't happened. We checked on your injuries a few hours ago, and it was as if you had just had them inflicted on you."

I lowered my head in despair at the news, though in a sick way it all made sense. There was no way that my supernatural injuries could be healed by normal methods, and in my heart, I knew that Truth would never allow me to escape my fate so easily.

"I really am sorry Sir, but there is nothing we can do." The doctor said, his voice filled with pity and sympathy.

"I understand." I whispered, trying with all my will to keep my voice calm and level in the face of such news.

After this exchange we talked for a while longer about various, more inconsequential matters. But no matter what topic we discussed, all I could think about was that my situation was permanent, and in my mind's eye I could still see the grinning face of Truth.

* * *

Central Hospital: 09/09/1899

A month had passed since I first came back to myself and discovered the true extent of my curse. It had been a confusing time, and I had struggled to return to any semblance of a normal life. This new form came with constant challenges, and it took a good deal of assistance from the ever-patient hospital staff for me to adapt to my situation.

Eating and Drinking were challenges in themselves, without cheeks or lips I had to learn a new technique when it came to keeping myself fed. The method I had finally learnt was far from elegant, and I doubted that I would be invited to any high-class dinners any time soon, but it was acceptable, and it was far from the only hindrance I faced.

It only dawned on me on the first night after I had regained consciousness, but the state of my eyes rendered me somewhat unable to close my eyes, and thus it meant that I couldn't sleep. After a few days of fatigue, I finally asked for assistance from the hospital, and they provided me with some sort of fabric band that would put my eyes in constant darkness, allowing me to sleep somewhat normally.

Pain was a constant companion, and it haunted be with every action that I attempted. The pain had returned after a brief respite, and although it was nowhere near as horrific as it once was, it was still a constant reminder of my situation. Any contact was guaranteed to cause some discomfort, but I at least managed to bear the pain, if not ignore it entirely when possible.

After the long period of time spent bedridden my body had weakened somewhat, so I threw myself into physical exercise as soon as I was able. I eventually worked myself back up to my original state of relative health, and then continued to work beyond that, the intense exercise providing me a welcome distraction from my situation, if only for a few hours.

With all of these issues being dealt with, time flew by, and it wasn't long until a month had passed, and I was informed that I was being discharged. The decision was a difficult one for the hospital staff to make, but they and I soon came to realise that there was nothing more that they could really do for me, and that I was able to survive on my own.

On the day of my release I must have been given over a dozen lectures about how to maintain the medical apparatus surrounding my form. Their concern was touching, but ultimately unneeded. I had coaxed the formula for the salve and the bandages from a nurse, and I was confident that I would be able to use Alchemy to create more of either, should the need arise.

When I was leaving the hospital, I was met by several sets of kind words from doctors and nurses that I had grown acquainted with over my stay, it was comforting to meet such people and to see that there were people dedicated to providing help to poor wretches like myself.

At the front doors I was met by one more familiar face, the doctor that had first spoke to me when I regained consciousness, and who had been of great assistance in some of my most difficult trials.

"So," He spoke, pausing to take a drag from one of his cigarettes "You think that you're ready for this?"

"As much as I can be." I replied, keeping my vision fixed forwards towards the doors to my freedom. "Thank you for your help Doctor…" I trailed off in embarrassment when I realised that I had never asked his name.

"Knox." He replied, holding out a hand that I firmly shook, wincing slightly at the discomfort from even that contact. The young doctor simply nodded afterwards, then he paced away, presumably looking for his next patient.

I tugged at the collar of my shirt, the basic clothes had been given to be by the hospital, and they concealed the majority of my bandages, besides my arms and head. I stood at the threshold for a few seconds, before I mustered the courage to walk out into the daylight. The first thing I was struck by was the familiarity of it all, Central had hardly changed in my absence.

For a moment I was unsure of how to proceed, until I realised that my house was only a few blocks away. It seemed like a logical place to start, despite the terrible memories that still lingered. I steeled my soul and moved forwards, already thinking towards the future.

When I arrived at the location of my home, any hope I had was almost instantly crushed. The housing block that I lived in was little more than ruins, a mountain of crumbled brick lay in its place. The ruin was cordoned off and guarded by a pair of soldiers, rifles in hand. I walked towards the pair, intent on finding some answers.

"What happened here?" I asked, trying to keep my voice passive and level to avoid antagonising the soldiers.

"Chemical Explosion." Replied one of the pair, his eyes fixed forwards "We're still working to determine the cause."

"Who's in charge of the investigation?" I asked, knowing that a commanding officer would likely know more information.

"It's mainly a Military Police matter, though Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong was the first on the scene." He answered, fixing me with a look that told me he didn't want to answer any more questions.

Armstrong… after a second of thought I remembered the source of that name. Armstrong was the female officer who had found me in the basement and later given her blood to save me. It seemed that Armstrong was the best one to ask about what had happened.

With a quick resolution I began to make my way towards Central Command, hoping that she would have the answers I sought.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Oathsworn**

* * *

Central Command: 09/09/1899

Central Command hadn't changed much, it had been over a year since I last entered the place, but it seemed to be the same maze of concrete and steel as ever. Thankfully the soldiers standing guard at the gate had allowed me in, as Central Command frequently found itself closed or barred to the public during times of war or unrest, times at were all too frequent.

The construction of the vast command complex was impressive, the massive plateau it sat upon gave it a commanding view of Central and also made the building very difficult to attack, as any invaders would be funnelled into narrow passageways that served as strategic chokepoints. The great staircase that I had just ascended was the only main entrance into the command centre, though several side gates existed for use by military personnel.

After crossing the vast open gardens that served as both relaxing location and possible firing zone I finally made my way into the building that constituted Central Command. The room I entered into was some sort of large open plaza area, with dozens of soldiers and officers standing and talking with one another or moving rapidly to wherever they were headed. I noticed a series of reception desks on the far end of the room, so I gently moved through the crowds to make my way to these desks.

The only desk that wasn't currently serving someone else was right in front of me and crewed by a female auxiliary, somebody who served the military but wasn't actual military personnel. I walked up to the desk and cleared my throat, hoping to catch the attention of the woman who was currently filing paperwork of some description. She looked up at me and her eyes widened somewhat with confusion, clearly my appearance was something that she found unnerving.

Why was she staring at me? I felt an unexpected surge of anger and embarrassment, the image of my own reflection flickering before my mind's eye as I remembered how unusual I truly looked. But why should she care? This doesn't concern her, how dare she!

That last thought shocked me somewhat, and I sighed in an attempt to calm myself before asking for the information I needed.

"I'm looking for Armstrong?" I asked, noticing for the first time how my words were twisted and distorted by the bandages covering my mouth. The question seemed to snap the Auxiliary from her stupor, and she finally stopped staring at me.

"I see." She asked, still visibly unnerved "Do you have an appointment with her?"

"No." I replied, inwardly cursing myself for missing such a simple thing "Just tell her that an… acquaintance has come to see her."

"Very well." She said, and I realised that I should have probably tried to be a little less ominous "Follow me Sir."

She stood up from her desk and walked down one of the many corridors in Central Command, gesturing for me to follow her. I simply nodded in reply and walked behind her, hoping that Armstrong would be willing to see me. I needed to meet her, she was the only thing I could think of right now, any other links to my old life were dead and buried.

As we walked through Central Command I noticed the stares of the soldiers we walked past, each pair of eyes seemed to latch on the me and follow me down the hallways. The confusion in their expressions was obvious, and it bothered me no end to see so many people staring at me.

_Why are they staring at me?_

I knew why, I knew why I was receiving all these stares from everybody I came across, the injuries I carried and the scars they left were evident to all, and it was clearly unusual. Though I hadn't noticed at the time, even the soldiers and civilians I had seen outside the collapsed remnants of my home had stared at me as well, and now their eyes swam throughout my mind, staring, judging.

"Sir, we're here."

The comment by the auxiliary snapped me out of my memories, and I turned to see that I had walked several paces beyond the door that the auxiliary was opening.

"If you wait here Sir, I will see if Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong is willing to meet with you." She said with an authoritative voice, and she closed the door behind her without waiting for a reply.

Lieutenant-Colonel? I could swear that the Armstrong that had rescued me was a Major, and I could almost remember whoever was with her calling her by that title. Could she have simply have advanced in rank since I saw her, or was this another example of my own mind working against me? Ever since I had awoken I was seemingly unable to keep my thoughts straight, and even keeping track of time and the passing of events was something of a difficulty. The doctors had told me that this was a side effect from the massive trauma that my body had undergone, and that it should clear up over time. Despite this assurance I found myself becoming more and more concerned with my mental state as well as my physical body, and it seemed that every day I came closer to completely unravelling, I hoped that Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong could provide me both answers and some kind of closure, which would hopefully allow me to move forwards in one fashion or another.

Before I could think further on the matter the Auxiliary stepped out of the door and gestured inwards with her arm.

"Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong will see you now." She said, her face inscrutable upon seeing me again.

I muttered my thanks and walked through the open door, uncertain as to what awaited me on the other side.

* * *

The office I entered was spacious and well lit, and it created an immediate atmosphere of a calm sanctuary, though the military edge was still evident in the design of the room. Unlike many of the offices that I had seen when travelling with my father this one wasn't nearly as busily decorated with trophies and curiosities, which made it seem much less gaudy than those other places I had seen.

At the far end of the office sat a great oak desk, and at this desk sat the person I was looking for, Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong. As soon as I saw her sitting at the desk, I was certain it was the same person who had rescued me, and I was instantly relieved to see that my search had been successful.

"So, who are you?" She said without looking up from her papers, her voice was authoritative, and it held a slight noble edge to it. "I don't have time for any timewasters, so you'd better have a good reason for bothering me.

I was slightly surprised by her harsh words, but she was in the military after all, reputation and respect mattered a great deal.

"We've met before." I replied, my mind already swimming with the questions I was going to ask, "Though we never had a chance to converse properly, and I was hoping we could rectify that."

She looked up from her paperwork after hearing that, and as soon as she saw me her demeanour changed almost instantly.

"It's you isn't it?" She asked, the paperwork she was filling out already forgotten "You're the one from that house."

I nodded, only just remembering that she would have never seen me with the bandages on. Something in my voice must have betrayed my identity, yet it still surprised me that she was able to discern who I was after only a few seconds.

"You had better sit down." She gestured to the chair facing her desk "You and I have some things to discuss."

I complied with her request and made my way across the room, and as I took my seat I realised that her gaze hadn't left me at all, her curious expression made it clear that she probably had some questions of her own about what had transpired.

When I sat opposite Armstrong I was able to make out the finer details of her appearance. She wore the standard military uniform of Amestris, though her shoulders were adorned with Officer's stars. She also had some kind of sword strapped to her waist, and the calm way she rested her hand on the hilt of the weapon made it clear that she was both willing and able to use the weapon should the need arise. Her face showed that she must have been almost as young as me, though her hardened military expression made her seem slightly older. Her features were those of a pure-blooded Amestrian, piercing blue eyes and long blonde hair that were characteristic of people that lived in Amestris. Her face was refined and gave an impression of noble ancestry, which could explain how someone who wasn't much older than me could gain such an impressive position in the military.

"So," She said, clapping her hands together for emphasis "You managed to find me."

"Yes." I replied, already curious about her intent "You have no idea about how relieved I am to have found you."

"I see, I admit I was going to track you down myself, I have some questions I need to ask you."

That surprised me, I had clearly made as much of an impression on her as she had on me, and I supposed that I would have to answer her questions.

"Well, you may as well ask your questions." I said, nodding to invite a response "I owe you that much at least."

"Very well, I suppose I want to know what the hell you were thinking?" She asked, anger creeping into her voice.

"What do you mean?" I responded, a niggling voice in my mind telling me that I was out of my depth here.

Instead of replying right away she looked over my shoulder to look at the door, when she presumably saw that it was closed she answered me.

"You know damn well what I mean!" She answered, her voice suddenly harsh and angry "What the hell possessed you to attempt human transmutation? Are you arrogant or just a fool?"

I was shocked at the realisation, she knew what I had been attempting! I felt myself shrink into the chair in shame, the knowledge that somebody else knew of my sin burning my mind and filling it with guilt and embarrassment.

"Nothing to say?" She asked accusingly, when I didn't provide an answer she stood up from her chair and slammed her hands into the desk, staring down at me with an expression of anger and something less discernible "I suppose you feel that I'm not worth the explanation?"

I muttered my disagreement and lowered my head, finding myself unable to face her in my shame.

"So why did you do it then?" She spat, anger still thick in her voice "I suppose you just wanted to make yourself famous, is that it? To think that somebody would have the audacity to commit such an act and then march into my office like some kind of local personality, you have some nerve."

When I heard her last remark, I felt an unexpected surge of rage and I stood up to face her, slamming my hands into her desk to both mirror her actions and to ensure I would have the opportunity to speak.

"I just wanted to see my father again!" I shouted, my voice filled with anger and remorse "How dare you judge me for that!"

As soon as the words had left my mouth I regretted them, escalating the confrontation with this officer wouldn't help anything, but before I could retract my statement Armstrong reacted in a way that I certainly didn't expect. She laughed, not a mocking laugh, but one that left me feeling dumbfounded all the same. She clapped a hand on my shoulder and looked straight into my eyes, and I was left with the feeling that she was seeing my eyes themselves, not the reflective glass that covered them.

"So, you have a backbone after all." She said, her voice level again and just barely friendlier than it hand been when our conversation started "Sit, I think we have some things we need to discuss."

At Armstrong's behest I explained my story, my studies as an alchemist, the death of my father, and my subsequent attempt at human transmutation. I left out my name and that of my father, hoping to avoid being identified. Before I could explain the consequences of my actions she interceded with a question.

"I understand your grief, but there is something that I still don't understand" She said, her expression showing her to be deep in thought "Surely attempting human transmutation goes a little beyond grief, is there any other reason as to why you would make such an attempt.

I was about to tell her that grief was my only motivation, but before I could reply something from the back of my mind stopped me. A memory of meeting my father before he died, he told me something important, something dangerous, but what was it?

"I think my father knew something." I replied, "He told me something dangerous, but he left before he could tell me anything else, and he died a few hours later."

"I see." She responded, looking out of one of the windows that lined the Western side of her office "You think that this information got him killed, and you hoped to discover the rest by resurrecting him? Can you remember anything of what he told you?"

"That sounds right." I answered, pausing briefly before I answered her second question "I can barely remember anything, it's like the memories are blocked from my mind or something."

Armstrong nodded and allowed me to continue, her expression turning into disbelief and then horror as I described my time inside The Gate of Truth, unlike everything that came before, these memories were perfectly clear. It was as if they had been burned directly into my mind, the trauma of my experience etched permanently onto my psyche.

"My god." Armstrong whispered, her previously sturdy demeanour eroded away at my story "So this being you met called itself God?"

"Yes, it claimed to be a lot of things. I'm not sure if it was lying or not but its' power was real enough." I replied, before a question arose in my mind "You believe me about all this?"

"It is pretty unbelievable…" She answered, thinking for a second before continuing "But yes, I believe you. You don't seem to be the sort to lie about something like this, and it's too fantastical to be a lie."

"Thank you." I replied, it felt like an enormous weight was lifted off my chest at the confirmation that I wasn't completely insane.

"Of Course." She nodded "So what happened when you left this… Gate?"

"I was back where I started, but the injuries I had seen inflicted on me were real. I was in agony for what felt like hours, and I was sure I was going to die in there. I even started to wish for death, just so the pain would stop." I stopped for a second, shocked at my own admission "But then you saved me."

Armstrong didn't say anything, though her expression seemed to indicate some apprehension at being praised. Her face was filled with masked sympathy as I described my torment. When I realised that she was waiting for me to continue, I did so, asking a question that had been burning in my mind above all the others.

"I need to know, why did you save me?" I asked, feeling like I was bearing my soul by asking such a question.

"It's my duty, the military is meant to protect the citizens of Amestris." She replied, though her expression indicated that there was another reason, a reason I wanted to know.

"Well that makes some sense, but giving your blood to save my life? That goes a little beyond the line of duty doesn't it?" I hesitated before adding "It's not like a wretch like me deserves to live anyway, not after what I did…"

"So, you think that you don't deserve to live, is that it?" She answered, her expression was almost… sympathetic? "I don't care for people that do nothing but wallow in self-pity."

"Don't mistake my words, I am immensely grateful for what you did. I owe you my life in fact." I replied, "I just don't understand why I was worth saving, blood transfusions aren't exactly safe you know, infection and all that."

"You survived, that's proof that you have some strength within you." She said, "As to why I saved you, maybe I know potential when I see it before me, even if it comes in an odd way."

Before I could say anything, Armstrong stood up and strode towards a cabinet that sat in the corner of her office. When she returned to her desk she held a bottle of whiskey and two small glasses in her hands.

"I believe it is time for us to be properly introduced." She said, carefully pouring the two drinks before handing one to me "Are you even old enough to drink?"

"How young do you think I am?" I laughed "Yes, I am old enough to drink, though I can't say I've ever tried something this strong before."

"Well you're in for a treat, this stuff is brewed by one of my cousins in Eastern Amestris, the recipe has been passed down the Armstrong family for generations." She replied, gesturing to the bottle "Anyway, I'm Lieutenant Colonel Olivier Mira Armstrong, and it is a pleasure to meet you, Richter Gotz."

She held her glass towards me and I obligingly toasted her, pulling one of the bandages that covered my mouth aside and downing the liquor in one motion. I instantly regretted that decision when the burning sensation from the drink scorched my mouth and throat. I certainly didn't expect the taste to be as strong as it was, and it took all my willpower to stop myself from coughing right there. Once I was sure that I was able to speak again I made my own introduction.

"Well, I'm…" I paused when I realised what she had said "You know my name?"

"I found your father's file a few days after I found you." She explained, setting her empty glass aside "You're lucky I found it when I did, lots of people were looking for it."

She set the file down on the desk, opening it up into the few pages that listed my father's descendants, namely Me. I looked over the pages that contained a worrying amount of information about me, including a fairly recent picture of me that I don't even remember being taken.

Armstrong reached for the file and began to write new information over it, when she was finished she looked back up to me.

"I'm going to make you an offer Richter, this file now describes you as being legally dead. According to all Military records you were grievously injured by the chemical explosion that destroyed your house and later died in hospital." Armstrong explained all this while I simply watched in silence. "This should allow you to live a normal life, free of your past."

"Chemical Explosion?" I asked, recalling that one of the soldiers outside my house had said the same thing.

"That's the cover story anyway." She waved her hand, dismissing any concerns that I had "Don't worry, I had some people loyal to my family destroy the transmutation circle and bury the… remains before anybody from the military saw them."

"Thank you." I bowed my head, feeling humbled once again "I owe you so much, your kindness is greatly appreciated, I don't deserve this."

"Oh, stop with the self-loathing already." She replied, "I know what you did can't be undone, but don't go giving up on life so easily. Once your injuries have healed you should be able to live somewhat normally."

"They won't heal." I interrupted, noting the saddened expression on her face "Whatever Truth did to me is irreversible, I'm not healing even after months of waiting."

"I'm sorry to hear that." She replied, the honesty in her words was good to hear, but it also reminded me of my situation.

"There's nothing left for me to live for, not in my state." I was about to leave, but then an idea came to my mind "Unless…"

"What?" Armstrong asked.

"I am greatly indebted to you, and although I doubt I can ever repay you fully, that doesn't mean I won't try." I barely paused between words, the insane proposal had already filled my mind "Before my… accident I was training to become a State Alchemist, and I'm sure I could assist you in your own career if I were to gain that rank."

"I have no need of pitiful creatures full of self-pity." She snapped, leaving me crestfallen before she continued "But the presence of a State Alchemist, that is something I could see value in…"

"Please consider it." I replied, filled with an enthusiasm I hadn't felt for months "I need some kind of purpose in my life."

"I would need to see your talents for myself before I make a decision." She said, visibly weighing my offer in her mind "Have you performed Alchemy since the incident?"

I hadn't, any thoughts of Alchemy since my visit to The Gate had filled me with nausea and dread, and I had wanted nothing to do with Alchemy after what my last transmutation had done.

"Do you have anything you don't mind being transmuted?" I asked, knowing that I needed to prove myself in order to gain Armstrong's approval.

She handed me a glass paperweight, a disk of glass that was a few inches in width and perhaps an inch thick. I readied myself to perform a transmutation, but before I could reach for some chalk on Armstrong's desk a strange impulse took over my body. Instead of drawing a circle I simply calculated the transmutation in my mind, hundreds of calculations that should have taken hours to work out flashed through my thoughts, and the end result I visualised was a great deal more complicated than any transmutation I had attempted before. Without even thinking I clapped my hands together; a strange whistling noise rang out and I placed my open hands above the disk of glass. Alchemic lightning enveloped the disk, and I felt my visualised transmutation being acted out before me; I felt almost as if I was being controlled by the transmutation, my body was a mere vessel for the transmutation. When the lightning cleared it revealed the completed transmutation, a tiny scale model of Colonel Armstrong stood on the desk, every minute feature distinctly visible in the glass. My confusion as to why I had chosen her as a subject matter was eclipsed by my confusion as to how I was able to transmute without a circle.

Colonel Armstrong was seemingly just as confused, and she picked up the tiny model to inspect it, after a few moments she set the thing aside and looked back up towards me.

"How did you do that?" She asked, her confusion was evident in her voice and expression "How long have you been able to perform Alchemy without a circle?"

"I didn't know I could…" I whispered, feeling confused and overwhelmed again "I didn't even think, I just did it…"

As I tried to work out what had just happened, a voice could be heard in the back of my mind, a voice that I hadn't heard since that night, and that I was hoping to never hear again.

_Now witness The Truth._

That's it! The knowledge I had paid so dearly for, it had granted me greater understanding of almost every aspect of Alchemy; now it seemed that I was able to use my own body as a transmutation circle, and almost every kind of transmutation I could imagine seemed to fill my mind.

"I think I know what happened." I stuttered, staring at my bandaged hands in disbelief "The knowledge that I was shown in The Gate, it gave me the knowledge to perform alchemy this way."

"I see." Armstrong muttered, clearly deep in thought "Though I don't really care for the art myself, it has been passed down the Armstrong family for generations, even now my idiot Brother is learning our form of Alchemy."

I didn't interrupt, nor did I comment on her opinion towards Alchemy or her brother, it certainly wasn't my place to make comments like that.

"Our Alchemy has been practised and refined for centuries." She continued, now looking directly at me "But the power you hold, it is something far greater, isn't it? Though you paid such a terrible price for this knowledge, I do believe I could make good use of you."

"So, you mean…" I trailed off, not wishing to jump to conclusions.

"I accept your offer Mr. Gotz, I do believe that you could help me greatly." She smiled for the first time since we met, and I was surprised to find myself thinking how attractive that expression made her look. I worked hard to push that thought out of my head, I had barely even met her!

"Thank you, Colonel." I replied, trying to keep my excitement out of my voice "There's just one thing…"

"What's that?" She asked, her normal stoic expression returning.

"I don't wish to be called Gotz anymore, my actions have disgraced my father and my family name, and I can't bear to carry such a burden any longer" I admitted, guilt welling up inside me again.

"I understand, family reputation is such a difficult thing to live with." She nodded "Besides, it would be highly suspicious if somebody with the name of a dead alchemist showed up to the State Alchemist examinations, so a new surname is a sensible precaution. So, what do you want to be called?"

I paused for only a few seconds to think, the perfect answer suddenly came to my mind.

"Magnus." I answered, feeling a new sense of confidence "Call me Richter Magnus."

"An interesting choice." She answered, her eyes met mine and she continued "Any reason for that choice?"

"Uriah Magnus was a famous alchemist that studied under the Eastern Sage, it seemed fitting to pick up his legacy."

"Well then Richter Magnus, I accept your offer." She held out her hand, which I eagerly shook. The sensation of physical contact was not as painful as it had once been, and I found myself hesitant to let go. "You and I will do great things together."

"I look forwards to it Olivier Armstrong." I replied, and I meant it. "I promise not to squander the life you saved, I certainly owe you that much."

For the first time in many months, I felt a great sense of optimism in my heart, and something in the back of my mind told me that I had made the right choice.

* * *

_Author's Note_

_Hello all,_

_I felt that it would be a good idea to clear up the ages of the characters in this story, as it is useful information going forwards. (By the way all dates are formatted in Day/Month/Year as I am English and that's how we do things this side of the Atlantic)_

_This is the timeline I am using to reference my dates: wiki/Timeline_Manga_/_Fullmetal_Alchemist_(2009)_

_This story is currently taking place in the Autumn of 1899, though time will move forwards as the story progresses. This date is about 15 years before the events of FullMetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, which takes place from Spring 1914-Spring 1915._

_Richter Gotz (now Richter Magnus) was born on 28/2/1881, which makes him 18 at the current time. This means that he will be 33 when the events of Brotherhood take place._

_I couldn't find an official birth date for Olivier Armstrong, so I placed her birth date at 12/12/1878, which makes her 20 at the time of the story. The way she achieved this rank at her young age was due to a mixture of family influence and general competence. This date means that she will be 35 when she appears in Fullmetal Alchemist, this date makes sense to me given how Mustang is 29/30 during the series and is considered something of a young officer, so Olivier being half a decade older made sense in my mind._

_At this time Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye and Maes Hughes have not yet entered the military, so they won't be here for a while, but they will appear in good time._

_Also, around this time Edward and Winry have just been born, and Alphonse is still yet to be born, so it will be a while before they appear too, though they may show up in a few unexpected places before 1914…_

_I hope that this little addition clears things up for anyone that is confused, though if anyone has any questions feel free to ask and I will answer them as well as I can._

_As well as this I think I should mention that the Ishvalan Civil War hasn't even begun yet, and in this story the State Alchemist Program is still a very new endeavour. This means that State Alchemists are fairly well liked, and haven't been used as living weapons yet, which goes a little into explaining why Richter is fairly eager to join their ranks._

_Thank you to everyone that has read, followed, favourited and reviewed this story so far; your support is greatly appreciated, and I hope that you will continue to enjoy this story as it advances further._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Certification**

* * *

Central Command: 26/09/1899

The past few weeks had been a blur of activity, all of the details of my new life were being worked out, it never occurred to me how many things go into providing the image of a person. Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong altered some paperwork to give me access to my father's old bank account, the money from which I used to by myself a small apartment close to Central Command. I felt somewhat guilty about using my father's money, but in my heart I knew that it was only going to waste otherwise, I'm sure he wouldn't want me to waste all of his hard-earned cash anyhow. Soon enough I would be paid enough to support myself, but this was a nice windfall in the meantime.

Colonel Armstrong had offered to let me borrow a room in her families' manor, I declined the offer on the grounds that I didn't want to use up too much of her goodwill, I owed her a great deal already. Yes, her family did apparently own a manor. It turns out that her family are extremely rich and powerful, with a great many traditions passed down for hundreds of years. I admit I found it odd when Colonel Armstrong kept saying how certain traditions were passed down her family for generations, but it seems that talking of such things is a family tradition in itself.

It seemed strange that I was to take the State Alchemist Examination, I had spent months preparing in my old life and even then, I was far from certain that I would be able to pass the examination. But now I held the knowledge of The Gate, and the examinations now seemed to be little more than a small obstacle in my life, something to be briefly considered before being passed.

I was currently waiting outside Colonel Armstrong's office, as she wanted to talk to me before I took the exams. I wasn't sure why I needed to see her before the test, but it seemed sensible to heed her demands, she was going to be my commanding officer anyway, so I guess I had to get used to following her orders.

The door to Armstrong's office swung open, and the woman herself stepped out, clad in her usual military uniform, the frown on her face indicating that she had just been dealing with business that she would rather not be saddled with. She turned her head towards me and her expression softened somewhat, though not beyond her usual stoic persona. She briefly looked me up and down, seemingly to appraise my appearance before nodding and gesturing for me to follow her,.

I obliged her and the pair of us walked through the winding corridors of Central Command, trusting her memory and sense of direction to guide me through the twisted halls. Despite having been guided through the building by Colonel Armstrong on several occasions I still found the place greatly confusing, and when I had asked for a map I was told that none existed, as they could be used to provide intelligence to groups wishing to target Central. Despite that reply making sense, it still irritated me and made the building's illogical layout that much more confusing, though apparently that was intentional as well.

Armstrong looked over her shoulder to confirm my presence behind her before looking forwards again, pausing briefly before speaking up.

"Nervous?" She asked, not pausing in her march to talk.

"Somewhat." I admitted, briefly looking over my shoulder to confirm we were alone before continuing "My current state should at least make this thing easier, the information is all in my head after all, but I still can't shake my nerves."

"Of course." She replied, her voice lowered "Be sure to keep that to yourself though."

I muttered my assent, understanding the need for caution and secrecy. About a week after Armstrong and I met in her office she called me to meet again, and we discussed the best way to deal with my current condition. After some back-and-forth discussion we agreed that it was best to keep the nature of my injuries a secret, as it wouldn't do to have others within the military become aware of my past.

Armstrong stopped outside a pair of large oak doors, turning on her heel to face me.

"The examination will take place here." She informed me, eyes meeting mine "You will likely be assessed by a Colonel or a lesser General, as well as a group of Alchemists."

"I understand." I replied, "Any idea who the Alchemists are?"

"Likely Basque Grand and a few others. This programme is incredibly young and underdeveloped, and I've heard some of the Senior Staff wish to dismantle the program, so Grand will likely be trying to impress them."

"Right." I rolled my eyes at the actions of the Senior Staff, stopping myself when I remember that Armstrong couldn't see the expression "Anything else I should know?"

"Remember to use a Transmutation Circle." She whispered, ensuring that whoever was on the other side of the door couldn't hear us "I know you are capable of going without it, but that would bring unneeded attention."

"Of course." I was frustrated by the limitation but understood the necessity of it, at least I was able to use the knowledge from The Gate to create a transmutation.

"Good luck then Richter." Armstrong said, holding a hand out that I reflexively took and shook. With that last word out of the way Armstrong turned and walked away, only stopping to call over her shoulder.

"Come find me when you pass." She called, waving a hand over her shoulder.

"I think you mean _If _I pass?" I called back, using the humour to relieve my nerves somewhat.

"No, I mean when." She answered, walking out of sight and leaving me to wait for my call.

* * *

It seemed to be a great while before I was called, when I finally was a young soldier stuck his head out of the great doors and beckoned me in, which I did.

The room that awaited me on the other side was much larger than I had expected, resembling more of a Great Hall than an examination room, with great stone columns and arches making up the construction of the building. Sure enough, Basque Grand stood at one side of the hall, flanked by two other officers with the appearance of State Alchemists. One the other side of the hall were various officers, some of which were throwing dark looks at Grand, showing the internal strife that Armstrong had informed me of. In the Centre of the hall was…

Fuhrer-King Bradley, the ruler of Amestris was stood opposite me in the centre of the great hall. I had only seen the man a few times before, but the eyepatch and sword were dead giveaways, as was his heavily decorated uniform indicating his position as ruler of Amestris. Though I was never really one to venerate the ruler of our nation I was still dumbstruck by his appearance before me, and for a brief moment I wondered if I had somehow entered the wrong room.

"Mr. Richter Magnus?" Bradley asked, his calm and clipped voice cutting me out of my stupor.

"Yes, your excellency." I replied, briefly thankful to one of my teachers who had taught me the proper forms of address for military personnel. At the time I had found the lesson useless, though I guess I had never imagined myself in this position.

"You know, you're the reason I'm here today." Bradley said, his one eye gazing straight at mine, seeming to pierce the glass that shielded my eyes. I contemplated his words and was filled with worry; did he know about me?

Before I could think further he continued "I've heard of everybody else taking the test today, all of them were semi-notable civilian Alchemists from Central. Then I see your name and I'm left confused, even more so when I see you are being recommended by Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong. I must say my confusion has only amplified now I see you in person, so what is your story?"

"Well Sir…" I was left confused and uncertain, something about the way he spoke made me almost want to tell him everything about me, though a creeping doubt told me that he already knew "I'm an Alchemist from the Southern Area, I suffered the injuries you can see in a fire a few years back that left me greatly scarred, I came to Central on recommendation from a relative of the Armstrong family, and I believed I would be able to become a State Alchemist."

"I see…" Bradley trailed off, looking as though he didn't believe a word I said. "Very well, show us what you can do."

I reached for the stick of chalk in my pocket and knelt down, drawing a perfect circle upon the concrete floor. I briefly contemplated what I wished to create before the perfect idea came to me, and within a few seconds of the idea the circle required had formed in my mind's eye, the knowledge given to me by The Gate fuelling my own knowledge of alchemy. The circle required was complicated, and I spent the next few minutes sketching out all of the tiny and precise details required for the transmutation. As I continued to sketch the circle I heard murmurs of conversation rise up around me, I couldn't make out much, but it seemed that nobody else had attempted such a complex transmutation today, and the officers present seemed to be curious to see if I succeeded in whatever it was that I was attempting.

Finally, I finished the transmutation circle, and I moved backwards to examine my work. The circle was unfathomably complex to the untrained eye, but I was able to comprehend the circle quite easily, and after a few moments of examination I determined that everything was correct. I looked up from the circle to see the expectant faces of the officers that surrounded me, with the calm yet intense expression of King Bradley sticking out from the crowd. I looked back down to the circle and, after a moment's hesitation, pushed my hands onto the edge of the circle, activating the complex array.

Alchemic lightning filled the room, and blue light shone out from the centre of the transmutation. A large, dark shape emerged from the centre of the transmutation, and I knew instinctively that my transmutation had succeeded. Once the shape was fully formed I pulled my hands from the circle, bringing the brief but complex transmutation to an end and showing my work to the officers that surrounded me.

The object I had created was a large clock, the traditionally wooden surface replaced with glass to expose the intricate clockwork mechanisms within, the tiny and delicate brass gears working in minute detail to keep the clock working. I was suddenly hit with a memory that I had somehow forgotten, the clock was a replica of one that my father owned, and it was the closest thing we had to a family heirloom. I was left confused at the sight of the clock, it seemed that my mind was compelled to create the device, and only after seeing the clock before me did I remember its origin.

The officers and alchemists in the room crowded around the device, remarking on the fine craftmanship and precision, and throwing several complements my way. I barely even heard them, my mind was already enveloped by confusion, why had I created such a thing? And why was I only just remembering such a prominent memory? It seemed that whatever The Truth had done to me was more than skin deep, and I instinctively knew that my trials were far from over yet.

My confusion was such that I didn't even notice the expression of King Bradley, who was regarding me with his unreadable expression. Nobody said anything when The Fuhrer left the room, his own mind already filling with questions.

* * *

Central Command: 04/10/1899

_This official document certifies that the nation of Amestris, prefecture of__ the Fuhrer appoints the title: **The Faceless Alchemist **to: **Richter Magnus**, in the name of Fuhrer King Bradley. _

_The State Alchemist shall follow all orders and policies of the military._

_A research assessment examination shall be held once every year. In the case that the State Alchemist does not show signs of progress in his research as a result of the examination, he shall be discharged from the services of State Alchemist._

_The State Alchemist is entitled to the use of ample research funds, unrestricted access to classified documentation, access to various governmental facilities, and a military rank equal to that of a Major. _

_It is known that State Alchemists that provide significant service of a military nature to the State of Amestris may advance further in military rank, and if they do so the requirement of a research assessment is removed._

**_\- King Bradley_**

The certification I held in my bandaged hands had arrived through my front door in the early hours of the morning, and I had subsequently made my way over the Colonel Armstrong's office as soon as possible, remembering her instruction to find her when I had passed the examination. I sat in her office now, reading and re-reading the document constantly as I waited for her to arrive.

The rest of the Alchemy examinations had been easy enough, though they were certainly thorough and tedious in the extreme, it was clear from these tests that the military really was looking for only the best Alchemists to join their ranks. After my demonstration at the hall in Central Command I was taken aside by Basque Grand and told that I was fit to pass on to the next level of examination. When meeting Grand I was concerned that he would discern my true identity, as it was him that I had corresponded with in my old life when I was preparing to become a State Alchemist. My worries in that department were seemingly for nothing, as if Grand had any suspicions, he didn't say anything about them.

The next examination was an oppressively tedious examination paper about all aspects of Alchemy, the material was largely fairly simple stuff, but wording in such a typically long-winded and military manner that I couldn't help but feel drowsy when reading through the pages. When I had eventually finished the massive paper and it had been thoroughly marked and read through I was told I had passed that aspect of the test and was now able to officially enter the ranks of the State Alchemists.

The 'Ceremony' was another typically military affair, I was told to swear loyalty to Amestris and the State Military and to abide by three main tenets, that same three tenets that applied to all Alchemists in Amestris: Obey the Military, Don't Make Gold, Don't Make People. The tenets seemed somewhat pointless to me, everybody had to obey the Military, I could easily make something just as precious as gold, and as for making people… well that was the reason I was here in the first place.

After all of the formality was over I was formally made a State Alchemist and given the markings and honours that were given to all State Alchemists. The silver pocket watch was a new way the Military was using to identify State Alchemists, as it turned out uniforms were optional, as many State Alchemists worked mainly as civilians with only tenuous links to the Military. I had opted to receive the uniform, it seemed clear from the conversations that I had had with Colonel Armstrong that I would be acting much more like a soldier than as an Alchemist, and so donning the dark blue uniform of the State Military seemed like an obvious choice. I wore the uniform as I sat in Colonel Armstrong's office, the Major's Star visible on my lapel.

It was an admittedly strange experience, to be inducted into the Military and given such a high rank so quickly, and with such confidence and trust from those I had talked to. When I had time to think, I still felt like a boy in my mind, someone who should be at home studying for university or going to get his first job, not being a Major in the State Military! My whole situation seemed to be getting constantly stranger and more surreal every day, and it was only when I looked in the mirror to be reminded of my situation that the reality of my life set in.

The pain I had grown accustomed to was still a constant nuisance, and it served to be a constant reminder of my condition. The pain that had once completely debilitated me was now simply a source of constant irritation, and although I was certain it would never leave me completely, it was now at least bearable. Dealing with the bandages was its own struggle, all of them had to be changed daily in order to ensure they stayed clean and free from infection, and I was tearing through the massive piles of bandages that the hospital were sending me every month.

The opening of the door to the office alerted me to Colonel Armstrong's arrival, and she was clearly unsurprised to see me judging by her lack of reaction to my presence. Without looking up from the document I heard Armstrong walk across her office and sit at her desk, placing her arms on the oak surface before speaking up.

"You know you're meant to stand and salute when a superior officer enters the room right?" Armstrong said, the sound of her voice shaking me from my cluttered thoughts.

"Oh… yes." I muttered, hurriedly standing and throwing up the most official looking salute I could muster, though from Armstrong's nonplussed expression I gathered that it wasn't quite up to her standards.

"I'll make you a soldier, soon enough." She muttered, then gestured to the chair opposite her "Come, sit."

I obeyed her request and sat down into the soft leather chair, placing the certification document on the table, which Armstrong wordlessly took and then quickly read through, leaving the two of us in silence until she finished reading. She seemed to suppress a chuckle at something in the document, and then set it back down on the desk.

"So, you're to be known as The Faceless Alchemist?" She asked, "It seems Fuhrer Bradley has some sense of humour after all."

"Well, it isn't much of one." I muttered darkly as I placed the document into one of my uniform's pockets, why of all the codenames did he have to pick one so… personal? "I can't say I'm too thrilled with being reminded by such a thing."

"Well nobody realised the real reason you look like that, that's what's important here." Armstrong replied, her face calm and contemplative "Besides, it's mysterious, this could help you build your own reputation in the Military."

"I'm not too interested in building a reputation." I muttered "I don't want to draw too much attention to myself."

"Reputation is everything in the Military." She countered "Besides, having a mysterious Alchemist by my side helps me build my own reputation, which I need if I want to keep climbing the ranks."

"By your side?" I asked, "Isn't that a little… personal?"

The remark had been meant as a joke, but the faintest impression of a blush appeared on Armstrong's face, only to be quickly be masked by her usual steely demeanour. That reaction surprised me, I hadn't meant to suggest anything by the remark, but it seemed my words were taken differently; and the face I hadn't been acquainted with Armstrong's ever-present sword indicated that she wasn't too upset with me.

"Anyway, I suppose we had best discuss what to do next." Armstrong said, her voice filled with its usual calm authority

"Of course." I replied, relieved at the sudden change of subject "What's the plan now then?"

"Well, as of tomorrow you will begin your position as my adjutant, meaning you will be assisting me in whatever the Military has me do." She answered.

"I see." I said, pausing for a second before a question entered my mind "What exactly do you do anyway?"

"Currently I assist the MPs in Central with matters that are above their pay grade." She muttered, the barest hints of a frown on her face "There are all sorts of things going on in Central's underbelly, and it's my job to ensure they get stamped out,"

That surprised me, as a child I was constantly assured that Central was the safest place in the entire world, as any criminals would be too scared to enter the city under the eye of Central Command. I wasn't naïve enough to think Central was free of crime, my father's own death was a testament to that, but it nonetheless surprised me to hear that crime was rampant enough in Central to require military backup.

"There is another matter I wish to address." Continued Armstrong, looking straight at me as if to assess me "You are clearly lacking in basic military training and procedure, and I need to ensure that anybody serving under me is as disciplined as any other soldier, more so in fact."

"Right…" I trailed off, not really liking where this conversation was headed.

"I also assume that you have never handled a sword or firearm before?" asked Armstrong, continuing when I nodded to the affirmative "Well then you will need to be trained in both of these areas, I can't have somebody who can't properly handle a weapon sent into the field."

"So, I'm being drafted into a training program?" I asked, feeling somewhat nervous about my immediate future.

"Don't be too nervous." She replied, though her demeanour did little to ease my nerves "I won't have you running laps like a new recruit, I will be training you personally, particularly in melee combat. The sword technique I practise has been passed down the Armstrong family for generations, and if you do well enough in the other aspects of your training I might allow you to learn some of this technique."

Though I wasn't exactly enthused about learning sword combat from my somewhat terrifying superior officer I recognised the need to learn such skills, I was a soldier now after all, and combat would be an essential part of my new life.

"Well, if all of the business is out of the way, I think we should celebrate your success." Said Armstrong, reaching under her desk and revealing a bottle of her favoured Armstrong's Whiskey, she poured out two glasses of the brown liquid and handed one to me. "To your success, Major Magnus."

"And to your generosity Colonel Armstrong." I replied, "I can't thank you enough for all you have done for me, and I swear that I will do whatever is needed of me to the best of my ability."

Toasts made, we clinked the tiny glasses together and drank the potent liquid. I still struggled to suppress my discomfort from the strength of the liquid burning my throat, in contrast Armstrong seemed almost unaffected, and I found myself realising that she may be even more stern and strong that I had thought before, which was a concerning realisation to say the least.

After a few more minutes of discussion I ended up leaving Armstrong's office and headed back towards my apartment with instructions to return at dawn the following day.

As I strode down the open streets, contemplating my future and thinking of what might occur tomorrow; I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of discomfort that seemed to emanate from the ground below me, try as I might, I couldn't shake the feeling of something awful occurring below my feet…

* * *

Below Central Command: 04/10/1899

_Wrath rarely felt nervous anymore, such pointless emotions had been discarded when he achieved ascension into a Homunculus, left mainly with the wrath that was his namesake. Despite this he still felt somewhat apprehensive when entering his father's chambers, as the eerie nature of the place chilled what remained of Wrath's human soul. The man known as both Wrath and Fuhrer Bradley entered the chambers of his father, needing to bring him news of what he had seen when overseeing the Alchemy examinations last week._

_The main chamber used by his father was incredibly vast, the architecture was fairly ornate, suggesting some abandoned congress room or place of meeting, as the concrete pillars and arches mirrored the architecture of Central Command, of which this building was part of. Most of the architecture was completely covered by massive pipes, which came from all directions and led into the great throne in the centre of the room, upon which sat Wrath's father. Only the Homunculi and their father knew the purpose of the great pipes, as well as the reason why their father must remain within these great chambers._

_Wrath noted with some relief that none of his fellow Homunculi were present within the great chamber, though their father insisted that they get along Wrath found their personalities somewhat grating at times, their exaggerated mannerisms proving somewhat tiring for Wrath. Though from what he had been told his older brother Greed was even worse, earning him the enmity of his siblings even before he betrayed his siblings and fled Central, though all of this was before Wrath's time, and he had only learned it through conversations with Lust and Envy._

_Wrath cleared his thoughts from his mind and approached his father's throne, certain that his presence had already been noticed._

_"You have information for me Wrath?" asked his Father, his deep and booming voice cutting through the distance between the pair._

_"Yes Father." Wrath answered, coming to a stop opposite the throne that dominated the centre of the great chamber "I believe I have found a candidate for Human Sacrifice."_

_"I see." His father answered, setting aside the ancient tome he was reading "And where have you witnessed this?"_

_"At the Alchemy examinations, one of the applicants displayed tremendous knowledge beyond a normal human level." Wrath replied, continuing when he realised his father was waiting "He was also clearly physically scarred, his entire body was covered to conceal some sort of injury. I could see through his concealment though, he is clearly grievously scarred."_

_"And did he perform the transmutation without a circle?" Father asked, his expression as stony and neutral as ever._

_"No." Admitted Wrath "But I could tell the capability was there, he might be trying to conceal his condition from prying eyes."_

_"We can't afford to make such assumptions my son." Scolded Father, who then paused in thought "Though the news you bring is still interesting, we can't rely on a suspicion."_

_"Certainly." Agreed Wrath, who found himself wondering what he should do to discover the truth about this interesting Alchemist._

_"Leave him be." Said Father, as if he had read Wrath's mind "The promised day is still some time away, and we don't know if this Alchemist will even live that long, or if he has indeed opened The Gate."_

_"I understand." Replied Wrath "I have allowed him into the State Alchemist program, this should ensure that he remains within Amestris at least."_

_"Very well, though I want no other interference for now, you shouldn't waste your time with mere possibilities."_

_"Of course, Father, I simply wished to alert you to the possibility." Wrath bowed and then turned to leave the chamber, leaving the being he called his Father alone._

_"A possibility, this early on." Said Father, talking to none but himself "I hadn't intended to start the search for a decade yet, but if someone is to surface this early…"_

_The creature clad in human skin held his palm open and used the power of his Alchemy to produce a small figure in the shape of a chess piece, though the head of the piece was replaced with a skull. The creature placed the piece on one of the corners of the star engraving to the side of his throne, the engraving represented the five sacrifices required for his grand transmutation, and the placing of this piece represented the possible acquisition of the first piece._

_"And so, we wait, and see if this piece makes it to the end of the game." whispered the creature, sliding back into the meditative trance that allowed it to concentrate on the greater game it was conducting._

* * *

_Author's Note_

_Just a quick lore amendment here, you may have noticed the passage in the Certification Letter that mentioned the possibility of advancing in rank and said advancement causing the need for research exams to be dropped._

_I added this passage to the letter to explain the various State Alchemists (Roy Mustang, Basque Grand, etc.) that hold a higher military rank and act more like soldiers than 'civilian' Alchemists (Shou Tucker, Tim Marcoh, etc.) and how they are utilised by the military. My reasoning says that these State Alchemists are more closely emmeshed within the State Military and as such they would be granted higher ranks for military service._

_The removal of the research exams also made sense to me, as these soldier-Alchemists would already be busy with various military responsibilities, and due to their higher favour with the State, this requirement could likely be waived. Also, I just can't imagine Mustang being able to pull of that kind of research every year, the guy is snowed under paperwork 24/7, so I don't believe that he would be able to do the calibre of research that broke Shou Tucker; I'm sure he's capable of it, he would just lack the time._

_Thanks to everybody who had read, followed, favourited and reviewed this story so far, your support is greatly appreciated._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Ascendance: Part 1**

* * *

Central Command: 05/10/1899

I had arrived at Armstrong's office early again, and I had acquired several books on military tradition and etiquette from the military's own library. The books that now lay around me were filled with information that was both massively helpful and entirely disinteresting, but I knew that I was expected to act like a soldier, so I hardened my resolve and continued to power through the massive tome that lay across the small table in front of me. The book I was currently reading was a vast textbook describing officer conduct and roles, something that I certainly needed to get to grips with, given that I both served under an officer, and was one myself.

My rank was something that I had no real idea on how to deal with, though I inwardly promised myself to never throw my weight around or pull rank on people unless absolutely needed, I knew that I needed to restrict my own power for my own sanity. I admit it was strange that wherever I went in Central I received constant salutes, which was certainly a somewhat surreal experience.

I heard the door to the office open and I raised my eyes to see that Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong had entered, having apparently just noticed my presence in her office. I briefly worried over if I was allowed in her office without permission before the training from the books kicked in and I snapped to a standing salute, trying to remember the correct form that I had read about.

"Colonel Armstrong Ma'am!" I barked, keeping a formal and level voice "Major Richter Magnus reporting for duty!"

Colonel Armstrong looked over me with an appraising stare for several seconds before walking over and closing the distance between us.

"You're arm's a little too low." She muttered, pushing my arm up by a few degrees into what was apparently a more acceptable position "But overall, not bad. At ease Major."

I nodded and settled into a more relaxed pose, though I took effort to ensure that I still appeared formal and ready for any commands that I would be given. Colonel Armstrong looked towards the books that I had left on the table between the two and nodded with some approval.

"I see you've been busy." She remarked.

"I've been trying, but there's a lot to learn." I replied, content to drop the 'Ma'am' since I didn't want to be too formal.

"Come with me, we have a job to do." She gestured out of her office, and I nodded before starting to follow her, idly wandering what I was in for after a whole day in the State Military.

After a few minutes of walking through Central Command Armstrong turned suddenly into a small room, and I followed her into it, closing the heavy wooden door behind me. The room was small and dingy, and seemed more like a broom closet than anything used for official military business. All that lay within the room was a single small wooden table and ad equally nondescript pair of chairs facing opposite each other. On top of the table sat a single folder, with the seal of the State Military emblazoned onto the exterior.

With some trepidation I sat down opposite Colonel Armstrong, who had already sat at one of the chairs and opened the file, and I observed her silently as she flicked through the document, seemingly appraising it for any information that she didn't already know. After a few minutes of silence, she slid the document over to me and spoke up.

"Over the past few weeks a known rebel cell has been taking bulk deliveries of these substances and moving them to an unknown location." She said, talking as if she was conduction a briefing to a crowd of dozens "I trust you recognise what those products can be used to create?"

"Various Nitrates, Canisters of Hydrogen, Traces of other…" I trawled down the list, before realising what could be created "They're making a bomb."

"Exactly, we think we have a lead on where they're making the bomb, I've been asked to lead a military raid on the location and I want you to accompany me."

I was briefly shocked by such a request, I had barely been in the military for a day and I was already expected to participate in some sort of daring raid involving terror cells and explosives. It seemed almost too ridiculous to be true, but I eventually managed to calm myself down enough to formulate a coherent response.

"Of course, as you wish Ma'am." I replied.

"Very good, make a visit to the Armoury and meet me at the West Gate in 30 minutes" She ordered, walking out of the room with the file under her arm.

"Armoury?" I asked in disbelief, but she was already long gone.

It looked like today was going to be more interesting than I was expecting…

* * *

After a few minutes of searching I finally found Central Command's armoury room, and I was surprised to discover just how extensive the collection of weapons held within Central Command was. A massive metal grate separated me from the rows and rows of rifles, pistols and even machine guns mounted upon the walls. In the centre of the metal grate was a small opening, within which a dour-faced man sat, eyes fixed forwards in an uncompromising glare at the wall opposite him. My incredibly brief education from a book on the subject of military auxiliaries told me that this man would be referred to as a Quartermaster.

"Hello there, you're the new Major right?" He asked, his voice sounded like a pair of mountains grinding against one another "The State Alchemist?"

"That's me." I replied, noting as I walked over that his gave hadn't shifted even as he addressed me "Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong sent me here to requisition some armaments."

"Well you're in the right place." He answered, holding out an open palm "I just need your documents to verify your identity."

I nodded and handed him my Pocket watch as well as the Military ID that had arrived through my door this morning, and which apparently served as general identification for Military purposes. He started checking through the items with a critical eye, this was the only time I had seen his gaze move since I entered the room. After a few seconds of inspection, he handed the items back to me, finally seeming to acknowledge my presence in the room.

"Major Magnus." He addressed me, his voice sounding ever-so-slightly more open "Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong made an order for you yesterday, I'll just get it for you."

The man disappeared into some other storeroom, and I was left to contemplate exactly what Colonel Armstrong had ordered for me. I was almost too afraid to even think about what the upcoming mission could entail, I don't think I had ever even held I firearm before, and now it seemed that I was being sent right into battle in the middle of Central.

Another detail that bothered me was the exact composition of the bomb that this rebel group was creating, though I hadn't noticed anything initially in the list of chemicals I now realised that they could be used by a sufficiently talented chemist or alchemist to create an explosive powerful enough to level a good chunk of Central. I knew that I would have to inform Colonel Armstrong of this fact, as it would likely be essential to the upcoming mission. The possibility of an Alchemist aiding this rebel group unnerved me, not just for their own skill, but for the fact that they might recognise what I had done to earn my current appearance, and the possibility of being exposed like that worried me no end.

"Here you are Major" The voice of the Quartermaster stopped my train of thought, and I realised he had returned clutching a large package wrapped in brown paper.

I took the package from him and carefully tore into it, the layers falling away to reveal a large metal case emblazoned with the symbol of the Armstrong House, which Colonel Armstrong had shown me the night prior. It seemed unusual that I would receive such equipment, but I trusted Armstrong's judgement in this matter and opened the case, revealing the contents that lay within.

My eyes were instantly drawn to the sheathed sword resting in the centre of the case, I lifted the weapon up and carefully pulled it from its housing, revealing the delicately embossed blade that shone like a mirror. The blade was incredibly light, and it felt like air in my grip, I carefully placed the sword back into its sheath and inspected the rest of the case's contents.

The next piece of catch my attention was the handgun resting in a leather holster, the gunmetal housing and polished sheen showing me that this was an entirely new weapon, it also came with several magazines, already loaded with bullets. The case also contained several straps of leather that I assumed would be used to form a belt and holster, and a large and savage-looking knife that I could only guess would be used as a backup melee weapon.

It unnerved me somewhat to see this case full of death-dealing implements at my fingertips, and the fact that I might soon need to wield these implements was even more concerning. In that moment, I was glad that the Quartermaster couldn't see my face, as I'm sure the expression of fear that covered my face was hardly becoming of a Major in the State Military.

After some fumbling I managed to fasten the holster and sheath around my belt, securing the various weapons I had been given to my person and inserting the extra magazines into the pouches on my chest. The weapons felt heavy around my waist, both figuratively and literally, bearing weapons like these was not something that I would take lightly, even though I recognised their necessity.

"You can requisition additional ammunition from this station at any time Major." Said the Quartermaster, who had seemingly removed the case and brown paper from his desk without me noticing "Your forms have been filled out this time but on any future occasions you will have to write out your forms yourself."

"Thank you Quartermaster." I replied, but it seemed as though the man had already returned to his previous position of unblinkingly staring at the wall opposite him, so I simply shrugged and moved on, my mind already focused on the upcoming mission.

* * *

I had reached the West Gate with barely a minute to spare, and when I arrived I realised the true scale of this operation. Three large trucks lay ready to be used by the troops of Central Command, and around 30 soldiers all armed with rifles and submachine guns stood in a loose semi-circle around Colonel Armstrong, who was clearly in the middle of briefing the troops on the nature of this upcoming mission.

As I walked into earshot of her speech I noticed the various looks I was receiving from the soldiers, who seemed to regard me with some suspicion, despite my uniform and rank. It bothered me somewhat that I was being regarded as such simply due to my appearance, but I did my best to shelve those feelings and walked onwards, picking up Armstrong's speech as I got closer.

"…this mission will not be an easy one, the rebel group we are facing is large and well-armed, and as you are aware they are believed to be in possession of the materials required to make an explosive device for unknown use." Armstrong barked, her voice a measured tone of military discipline and precision. "Regardless of this fact it is imperative that we stop these rebels immediately, this device could pose a great threat to Amestris, and it is our task to stop it from being completed, or if it is already active, prevent its detonation."

As I came to a stop a few paces behind Colonel Armstrong she turned to face me, and upon realising my identity she nodded towards me briefly before turning once again to face the gathering of soldiers.

"Men, this is State Alchemist Major Richter Magnus, and he will be serving as Second-In-Command for this operation. Though he is new to the State Military I have great trust in him, so I expect you to do the same and follow his orders to the letter." Armstrong turned to face me again before speaking up "Anything to add to the brief Major Magnus?"

"Well…" I paused, somewhat unsure as to whether I should reveal my revelation about the scope of this explosive. I knew the soldiers would find out soon, but I was unsure as to whether telling them this now would constitute a breach of protocol. In the end I settled on telling them, the knowledge could save their lives after all.

"Upon inspection of the list of chemicals being smuggled into Central I have come to the conclusion that this rebel group may be attempting to construct a high-yield Nitrate-based device, one with enough explosive power to wipe out a large chunk of Central if detonated." I explained, trying to keep my voice neutral to avoid any of my fear being obvious.

"Is it possible to create something like that?" One of the soldiers asked, before quickly adding "Sir?"

"A sufficiently talented Alchemist could quite easily create such a device, the use of Alchemy to mix these chemicals would be almost trivial to anybody with the knowledge." I shrugged, somewhat aware of just how cocky I sounded with that statement.

"Regardless." Interrupted Colonel Armstrong, who was seemingly unfazed by the information I had delivered "Despite this development that Major Magnus has alerted us to our objective stays the same, we will still proceed with the plan of attack that I have outlined, any questions?"

It was obvious that a lot of the soldiers had questions, but they clearly felt it best to keep them to themselves, and Colonel Armstrong was clearly satisfied with that response.

"Very good, now move out!"

* * *

The soldiers had quickly formed into three squadrons of ten, each of which had boarded one of the trucks in an ordered fashion. After a moment of confusion Colonel Armstrong directed me into a small Military car, which had a stern looking driver in military garb at the wheel and a heavy divider to keep any conversations from the back seats out of earshot of the driver.

The car was following behind the three trucks, and Colonel Armstrong and I sat in the back seat, we sat in silence for several minutes until Armstrong finally spoke up.

"You didn't inform me of the nature of the bomb." She said, it wasn't an accusation, simply a statement of fact.

"I apologise Ma'am." I replied, turning to face her "I only realised the nature of the chemicals myself while I was in the armoury."

"There's no need to apologise, you did what was needed, and if you hadn't come to this conclusion we would have no idea about what we are facing." She paused and turned to face me "Did you receive your equipment from the armoury easily enough?"

"I did, though I must admit I'm confused as to why it came bearing your families symbol?" I asked.

"That sword, it's one of the ancestral swords of the Armstrong family, we've passed it down for generations, and it's the twin of my own blade." She gestured to the weapon at her hip "They were forged together a few centuries ago, and they've seen many battles before."

"I see." I replied, though a question still lurked in my mind "How come you gave me such an important weapon?"

"It seemed right." She shrugged "Besides, any Officer under my command needs something to distinguish them."

I nodded and returned to looking out the window at the passing scenery, and although Armstrong's explanation seemed truthful enough it still seemed strange to me. She had already shown a great deal of trust in me, and to then give me use of a family heirloom without me even asking seemed strange. One day I would have to find out what exactly Armstrong saw in me that was deserving of such trust, though something in my mind told me that that day was still far away.

"We're here." Said Armstrong, shaking me from my thoughts and gesturing outside the car.

It seemed it was time.

* * *

Outskirts of Central: 05/10/1899

The building we stopped outside of was a dilapidated old factory, though the signs of aging on the building's exterior suggested that it was long out of use, or at least no longer used for its intended purpose. Sure enough, dim light was visible from the windows of the factory, the faint light becoming more visible by the second as the sun set over Central. It was clear that there were people present within the building, though whether or not they were aware of us would soon become clear.

The soldiers were all standing ready, weapons drawn and loaded, it was a sight that I hoped never to be on the wrong side of, and one that I hoped would lead this conflict to a fairly quick and bloodless resolution.

Armstrong drew her own blade and gestured wordlessly, the soldiers swiftly pushed through the front door of the building and quickly filed inside. After a few seconds I heard muffled shouting followed by gunfire, which was only followed by the footsteps of the soldiers as they moved deeper into the building.

Armstrong beckoned me inside the building and I followed her, cautiously pulling the blade I had been given from its sheath and holding it tightly in my bandaged hands, the cold steel somehow chilling my flesh despite the barriers between the two. I held the blade loosely by my side and entered the building, trying to remember any techniques on blade-wielding from the countless fiction novels I had read as a child.

The interior of the building was dark and dusty, and for once I was grateful for the fabric bandages that covered my mouth, as the coughing of several soldiers within the lobby altered me to the discomfort I was spared.

In the centre of the lobby lay the corpses of two men clad in civilian clothing, though two rifles laying near them altered me to their allegiance as rebels. Strangely enough the pair both had a crude tattoo inked onto their faces, I knelt down to inspect the symbol further and was somewhat shocked to see what the symbol was.

Both of the symbols depicted a coiled serpent, with its mouth open as if to devour its own tail. Though many of the details that I was familiar with were missing, and the symbols were crude and imprecise, it was obvious what the tattoos were meant to resemble.

An Ouroboros.

The symbol of Ouroboros was well known to any with even a passing interest in Alchemy, and the symbolism it held was greatly concerning given the context in which they lay. The meanings of an Ouroboros symbol were varied, though it's most notable interpretation was that of immortality, specifically the use of Alchemy to attain eternal life. In the corner of my eye I saw Colonel Armstrong crouch down beside me, clearly interested in whatever I had discovered.

"Is that?" She asked, reminding me that her family had an Alchemic tradition.

"Yes." I replied, my own mind still racing at the implications of this symbol "Whatever this means it can't be good."

"Agreed." Answered Armstrong, standing up straight and looking towards the door that led into the rest of the factory "I'll tell the men to beware of an Alchemists, with that symbol there, we have to expect anything."

I nodded my assent and stood up beside her, and together we followed the last of the Soldiers deeper into the factory, leaving a few behind to protect the entrance from any new arrivals or counter attacks.

We began to work our way through the factory, following behind the main attack force, which was standard military procedure as it was deemed tactically unwise to put Officers right into the thick of battle. Despite this we kept our weapons raised as we made our way through the maze of hallways and rooms, ever vigilant for any ambushes or counter-attacks that might catch us off guard.

We were briefly passed by a pair of Soldiers making their way back towards the exit of the factory, it seemed that Armstrong was about to question them for their actions until she saw that one of them was severely injured, his hand clutching a bullet wound that caused blood to soak through his Military uniform and leave a trail of crimson droplets behind him. His comrade was doing his best to carry his injured counterpart's weight, but he was clearly struggling. I saw Armstrong gesture towards the pair and one of the Soldiers from our escort group peeled off to assist the man in carrying his injured fellow, and the two passed us by at a much greater speed, hopefully increasing the wounded man's odds of survival.

I was about to remark on Armstrong's actions when I saw that we seemed to be entering the inner part of the factory, as the dust and darkness were far more pronounced in this area, lending an ominous atmosphere to the place that sent a shiver down my spine. Given this atmosphere as well as general decorum I felt it best to remain silent, so I simply continued to follow behind Colonel Armstrong as we pushed into the centre of the factory.

The rest of the factory complex was fairly similar to what we had seen already, though the various dusty corridors and hallways were littered with the bodies of the rebels, each one bearing the Ouroboros Mark upon their face. It seemed to me that the fixation with the Ouroboros indicated a religious motivation behind this group, as they seemed determined to not give an inch of ground or to surrender, instead every rebel gave their life without any hesitation.

The seeming religious motivation of this group was somewhat unexpected, but far from unusual. Throughout history the powers of Alchemy were often seen by the uneducated or wilfully ignorant to be magical or divine powers, and those who could practise the art in the presence of these people were often revered as Wizards or Holy Figures. This problem was accentuated by the fact that many unscrupulous characters with knowledge of Alchemy would purposefully encourage this delusion in order to gain whatever it was that they desired, be that wealth, a following or anything else their dark minds could conjure.

Despite the well-documented historical background to these groups they were seemingly becoming more and more rare, as public awareness and understanding of Alchemy increased, and it became accepted as a scientific pursuit, not a magical art. I once read that these 'Alchemical Cults' would often use symbols or Alchemy as their own symbols, either simply for luck of through the belief that these symbols would grant them some measure of the power that they revered. It was this last fact that made me wary, as the appearance of the Ouroboros symbol had reminded me of this knowledge.

My train of thought ceased when I realised that Armstrong and I had entered a large production room, and although the factories' machines were long gone the signs of activity here were far more obvious, as footprints and crates of supplies were dotted all around the vast room.

I noticed that the soldiers had all congregated in this room, and they all seemed to be focused on a single figure who was crouched in the centre of the room, and behind him lay a large pile of the supplies that could be used to create the bomb we were hoping to prevent.

As Armstrong and I stepped up into the front of the group of soldiers, I noticed what exactly the figure was doing, and what was around him.

A transmutation circle!

The circle he was drawing was complex, but the knowledge given to me by The Gate allowed me to understand it at a glance. It seemed that I was correct in my hypothesis about the high-yield bomb, this circle would mix the chemicals into an explosive that could level half of Central, and it seemed that the figure had almost finished drawing the circle.

Without waiting for a command from Colonel Armstrong I pulled my pistol from its holster and raised it towards the figure, silently grateful that Armstrong had shown me how to load the damned thing just after the briefing. I loudly pulled back the rail of the gun, which served the dual purpose of preparing the firearms as well as attracting the figure's attention, as he seemed to be too engrossed in his work to notice our presence.

At the noise the figure ceased his work and looked up to face me, his black cloak unfurling as he stood up and turned to face me. His face was adorned with a more ornate Ouroboros symbol on each cheek, and he had other Alchemic runes above his brow and below his lips. His expression was a mask of frustration, as he was clearly unhappy to have had his work interrupted.

"In the name of the State Military of Amestris I ordered you to surrender." I intoned, doing my best to sound menacing while being totalling unsure as to if what I said was an official phrase or not "Lay down your chalk and raise your hands."

At my last command it seemed that the soldiers around me became aware of what the man was planning, and I was answered by a chorus of weapons being raised and aimed, ready at any moment to cut down the figure that was clearly the ringleader of this group.

"The Cult of the Serpent does not bow to the commands of the State Military." The man replied, his voice filled with arrogance "And I'm afraid you have no way of stopping me."

At least we now had a name for this organisation, it seemed my theory was entirely correct, and it became clear that this man was like so many others, using Alchemy to gain an army of zealous followers that wouldn't even think of disobeying his orders, even as they were cut down by the State Military.

"I have no interest in your Cult." I shot back, pacing forwards as carefully as I could to avoid provoking the man into activating the circle that lay at his feet. "Your mediocre Alchemy is of no threat to us, surrender yourself or die."

"I advise you listen to the Major." The voice of Colonel Armstrong cut between our conversation and I realised she had made her way beside me, her expression indicated she was somewhat frustrated with me for taking charge but there was no real malice in her gaze. She levelled her sword at the man and continued "You'll find that I am not as merciful as the Major here, so I recommend you follow his instructions before you find yourself in an even worse position."

"We were promised immortality!" Cried the man, raising his hands high above the air, though his expression was hardly one of surrender "The One Below promised us that we would be made eternal if we succeeded in our task!"

This was new, it seemed that these fools were being commanded by a being that they knew as 'The One Below', and the promised immortality was equally confusing. Whoever 'The One Below' was, be that imagined deity or human puppet-master, it was clear that this whole thing was much larger than I had first imagined.

"I have no time for your delusion any longer!" barked Armstrong, her patience with the man's mad ramblings apparently having reached its limit, which I could understand "Surrender yourself now, or die!"

"There will be no surrender!" He screamed, his face a perverse mask of religious ecstasy "Today, we will ascend!"

"This ends now!" Shouted Armstrong, reaching for her own pistol as I watched the situation degrade right in front of me.

"This is only the beginning." Whispered the man, his face now eerily calm and composed, a far cry from the expression he had worn moments prior "Now! Attack!"

As he spoke those words, dozens of the cultists sprung from hiding places that had concealed them until their leader had called for them, each one raising a savage-looking blade or axe, their eyes filled with delusion and bloodlust. As one savage horde driven by a single delusion, the cultists charged forwards an engaged the Soldiers, seemingly unfazed as many of their number were cut down by disciplined rifle fire.

Though the cultists had taken high initial losses they evened the odds when they entered melee combat, and they hacked apart the experienced soldiers of Central Command with their savage blades. Furthermore, these crazed men and women were seemingly unconcerned with their losses or even with the injuries they were suffering, as the crimson-red glare in their eyes continued to burn even as they suffered injuries that would have felled any normal person, instead finding the life within themselves to make a final few attacks before finally collapsing from the injuries that should have slain them instantly

I was so shocked by the suddenness and brutality of the attack that I briefly lost sight of the man standing in the centre of the Transmutation Circle, and when my sight snapped back to him I saw what was happened.

"Now we ascend!" He cried, slamming both of his open hands into the Transmutation Circle, instantly filling the room with blinding Alchemic Lightning that enveloped everything in my vision instantly.

_To Be Continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Ascendance- Part 2**

* * *

Outskirts of Central: 05/10/1899

The first thing I saw was a blinding white light.

For a moment I thought that I had been killed, enveloped totally by the explosion that had surely followed the creation of the bomb, and thus I had returned to The Gate to pay once for the sin I had committed.

Only when my vision recovered did I see the reality of my situation, the entire room had been filled with disturbed dust following the completion of the transmutation, which had apparently not instantly detonated, so that was a bonus. It seemed that I was affected more by the massive and volatile transmutation, as since I was unable to close my eyes I was left nearly blinded by the sudden explosion of lightning.

I focused my vision towards the Transmutation Circle, and I saw what had been created by the transmutation. Despite the apparent failure of the transmutation to instantly detonate the bomb it had clearly still created the explosives needed for the bomb, as they now sat a mere ten feet away from me in a small pile.

My eyes quickly scanned over the Transmutation Circle, and the power of The Gate coursed through my mind as the knowledge it granted me allowed me to quickly ascertain what had caused the transmutation to go awry. After a few seconds of scanning the intricate drawings, my eyes homed in on the fault, a single line had been drawn somewhat curved, causing one of the central parts of the structural matrix to fail. After a moment's thought I dragged my boot across a large part of the circle, smudging it beyond recognition and ensuring that nobody could use the circle in the short term at least.

I only just realised that the battle between the Soldier's and Cultists had begun again, and steel rang against steel as jagged blade met with bayonets and combat knives. The previously disciplined groups of Soldiers had dissolved, and combat had turned into a few dozen instances of men and women locked in 1-on-1 combat. For a few moments I felt numb as I watched the swirling melee around me, each loss of a Central Soldier causing me to flinch in sympathy as their lifeless corpse fell to the ground into puddles of blood. Often, the Cultists would continue attacking their enemy ever after they had one, hacking at the bodies in savage frenzies until they finally moved on to seek new prey.

I was shaken from my trance by the presence of a strong grip on my shoulder, and I turned to see the face of Colonel Armstrong, whose face was a mask of pure concentration and focus.

"I need you to concentrate Major." She spoke, her voice cutting through my trance with ease "That bastard is still alive, and I need you to put him down for good, understand?"

"We're surrounded!" I protested, gesturing to the battle around us "Even if I can beat him, we'll be overrun by these maniacs in a few minutes."

"I know you can beat him." She replied, drawing her blade and turning to face the chaos behind us "As for these fools, leave them to me."

With that I watched as Armstrong calmly strode into the swirling chaos until I could hardly see her at all, her form enveloped by the raw fury of the battle raging around her, even as she stayed calm.

I couldn't let her down! I put all of my effort into calming my mind and turned to face the man who had attempted to detonate the bomb, who was pulling himself to his feet a small distance away

I had my own job to do, and I had to succeed.

* * *

The leader of the cult was slowly standing up from his prone position, he was only a dozen or so feet away from me, and so I lowered myself into the best combat stance I could muster and readied myself to face him. As he turned to face me I realised that he had been more grievously affected by the rebound of his transmutation than I had first expected, most of his dark robes had been torn to ribbons by the energy of the backlash, and he stood unsteadily on shaking legs, suggesting that he had suffered at least some kind of internal energy from the force of the rebound. He finally seemed to notice my presence and rolled his eyes at my readied pose.

"How the hell are you still alive?" He asked, shaking himself off and facing towards me "You've ruined everything!"

"That's kind of my job." I shrugged, finding some amusement in provoking this maniac "I'm all about stopping insane plans."

"It matters not." He replied, though I got the feeling that he was downplaying his frustration "I simply have to slay you and recreate my circle, you have merely delayed me by a few moments."

"I suspect you may find that harder than you imagine." I retorted, holding out my hands to ready my alchemy.

"We shall see." He answered, holding out his own hands to reveal several Transmutation Circles carved onto his hands, and with that last retort, our battle began.

I instantly went on the offensive, charging forwards with my sword and making several wide swipes at the leader. Most of them were dodged by the deranged leader, but a few found their mark, tearing through his black cloak and leaving cuts across his chest.

I moved to attack again but the leader activated one of the circles on his palm, transmuting a pulse of energy that tore through the ground underneath me and threw me several feet backwards onto my back, as I groaned in pain the leader folded his hands back into his cloak. As I pulled myself back to my feet he cackled and spoke again.

"A mere blade cannot beat my mastery of Alchemy." He laughed, finding some sick amusement in my situation. "Your skills are nothing compared to my mastery of the mystic art of Alchemy."

"Alchemy is science, nothing mystic about it." I retorted, feeling the need to try and cut through his delusion "Whoever granted you this knowledge is nothing but an Alchemist with a sick habit of manipulating fools like you."

"HERETIC!" He screamed, and I was happy to see that I had struck a nerve "You blaspheme against what you don't understand you fool!"

"Then teach me." I spat, feeling tired of his delusion "But you may be surprised by what I teach you."

"I doubt it." He muttered, raising his tattooed palms again, the symbols on his cheeks twitching with agitation.

As soon as he had finished speaking, the leader slammed his hand into the ground below him. The ground beneath him convulsed and the concrete formed into a wave of crushing rock that hurdled towards me at startling speed. Without even thinking I clapped my own hands together and pushed them out to meet the wave pushing towards me, as soon as my hands made contact the wave splintered into dozens of sharp rocks that hurdled back towards the leader. Though he dived out of the way of most of the rocky projectiles, one of them carved into the flesh of his leg, sending him spiralling towards the ground in a heap of ragged cloth.

Before I could push my advantage the leader slammed his hand into the ground from his prone position, causing another flash of Alchemic Lightning to flash in front of me. This time the ground twisted and transformed into several metal chains, which quickly became animated and darted towards me, the ends of the chains turning into vicious barbed points.

I clapped my hands together again and thrust them out to meet the chains, and pulsating wave of freezing-cold air bursting from my fingertips as I used Alchemy to reconstitute the water vapour in the air. As soon as this wave of air made contact with the chains they halted in their path of destruction, rendered unable to move as their links were frozen solid in an instant. After an instant the chains shattered, their weakened construction causing them to collapse into hundreds brittle metal shards that clattered to the ground.

A second later the wave of freezing air hit the leader of the cult, and he cried out in pain as some of his exposed skin was frozen solid by the wave of frigid air. The leader pushed through his agony and managed to gather enough energy to lean towards me, his expression a twisted mask of hatred and pain.

"What the hell are you?" He spluttered, spitting out a globule of blood "That Alchemy… it's like nothing I've ever seen."

"I warned you." I darkly muttered, pacing over to his prone for and gazing down up him, trying to show my disdain through my voice "You have shown yourself to be inept, and your Alchemy has failed before mine."

"This isn't possible!" He screamed in anger and frustration "The One Below promised me that I would be able to smite his foes with this power!"

"I'll give you one last chance." I whispered, not wishing to have to fight this fool further "Give up now."

The leader looked down at the ground in an expression of defeat, and for a moment I believed that he was going to accept my other. That hope quickly fell away as I saw him stare back at me with undisguised hatred.

"Go to hell." He replied, reaching for something in his belt.

Before I could stop him he threw the object towards me, and in the brief moment I could see the object I identified it as a military-grade Flash Bomb. Blinding light exploded from the device and I cried out in surprise as my vision was taken from me again.

Without the use of my eyes I stumbled around blindly, trying to go towards the explosives, looking for their location from memory. After I realised that I still hadn't intercepted the leader I tried one last desperate attempt to stop the leader, pulling out my sword and thrusting forwards blindly.

* * *

_Olivier was ready for a fight, she had absolute confidence in Richter and his Alchemy, although she didn't really care for the art, she was certain that he would be able to overcome his doubts and take down their foes. She was still uncertain herself as to why she placed so much trust in Richter, and she was certain that he was just as uncertain. Despite this uncertainty she had an inexplicable gut feeling that she could trust Richter, and she knew that she would be able to push him to get stronger._

_Olivier pushed these thoughts out of her mind, she needed to free herself of any doubts and uncertainty for the coming fight, and enter the state of pure focus that her father had trained her in. When Olivier was able to focus her mind sufficiently she was capable of her greatest feats of swordsmanship, and she knew that she needed to use this state of focus for the fight she was currently wading into._

_With a gentle exhaling of breath Olivier reached for her sword and pulled it from its sheath, the ornate blade reflected brilliantly in the darkness of the production room and Olivier used the flickering reflection to further hone her own mind._

_The first of the cultists to notice Olivier had just finished hacking apart his own opponent, and he snarled in rage before charging towards her, swinging a brutal looking machete in a wide arc above his head. In a blindingly swift movement Olivier ducked under the blade and spun on her heel, her own blade carving a deep gash across the cultist's throat in a single, elegant movement. The cultist barely had time to change his expression into one of surprise before he fell to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut._

_A pair of cultists covered in the blood of their latest victims sprinted towards Olivier, each one intent on slaying the leader of their enemies as swiftly as possible. Before either of them could even make a swing towards Olivier she struck them first in a blisteringly fast flurry of blows, the pair of cultists fell to the ground in bloody chunks, cut to ribbons by the Colonel who was already moving on._

_The bloody combat continued in this manner for a good time, with Olivier moving through the mass of cultists and dispatching each of them with practised swings of her blades, showing herself to be the exemplar of the Armstrong technique of sword fighting, and art that had been passed down her family for generations until it came to her, and the centuries of refinement were plain for all to see._

_Soon enough almost every Cultist remaining was focused on bringing down Olivier, the blood madness in their minds drowning out any doubts or fears that they would have about charging towards this woman who had already slain so many of their number._

_When she realised that she was outnumbered so drastically, Olivier switched tactics into something more suited for dispatching such a large group of foes. She drew her pistol with her spare hand and fired off several shots in quick succession, each one finding its mark in a Cultist. Though not all the shots were immediately fatal, they did their job and thinned out the group she was facing drastically._

_Only half a dozen cultists remained, and they were all surrounding Olivier, intent on killing her and gaining the favour of their patron god, the shadowed man that called himself The One Below. This dark god had gifted them with a fraction of a magically stone, and they divided it amongst themselves, planting the slivers of red crystal into their bodies. This act strengthen their bodies greatly, but it also unknowingly made them little more than thralls to their leader, who had been granted a special task by The One Below._

_These maddened and strengthened cultists acted like they all shared one will, and they charged in unison, all wishing to bring down the one who had slain so many of their kin. Olivier spun in agile circles, ducking under every blow she could avoid and parrying every blow she couldn't avoid. Though she retaliated when possible she knew she couldn't afford to be too aggressive when she was surrounded by so many foes, so she resorted to simply trading blows and waiting for an opening._

_In the end, the inevitable happened. One of the cultists landed a lucky blow on Olivier. It was a solid strike, the jagged blade sticking into the back of her leg and causing her to grunt in suppressed pain. Despite the debilitating injury she had just suffered, Olivier used it to her advantage, driving her blade straight through the throat of the one that struck her, killing the maddened cultist in a geyser of spurting blood that coated her blade._

_Now that she was carrying an injury Olivier knew that she could no longer afford to be so flamboyant with her movements and dodges, so she stuck to a more solid and defensive style, blocking and parrying all the blows that came towards her._

_Another cultist, emboldened by their fellows successful hit, leapt forwards towards Olivier, his blade aimed squarely towards her chest. This time, Olivier was ready, and the cultist's attack left him overextended, which she could punish. She raised her blade in a forceful strike, severing the cultist's arm in a single swipe, which she immediately followed up with a strike through the cultist's chest, piercing her heart and leaving her dead on the ground, her severed limb still twitching on the ground._

_Though she was injured Olivier got the impression that her four remaining opponents were beginning to run out of energy, so she pushed her attack forwards, intent on stopping the fight before another lucky strike injured her further. Olivier made several strikes forwards, with two of them finding their mark and bringing down two more cultists, another one soon followed, brought down by a wide slash to the throat._

_The final remaining cultist finally seemed to realise the truth of his situation, the madness in his eyes had dissipated as the power of their shared stone was weakened with the deaths of his brothers and sisters, and now he was left with the final piece of the stone, the miniscule fragment already starting to crumble as it's profane energy was expended in attempting to heal it's bearers injuries._

_Before the final cultist could do anything, Olivier dashed forwards, swinging her blade in a wide and heavy slash that found its mark on the cultist's throat. The perfectly honed blade carved through flesh and bone with disturbing ease, and the cultist's head was struck from his shoulders in a single blow, the body swaying back and forth for a second before crumpling to the ground, finally ending the brutal bought._

_Once she was certain that no more cultists were going to emerge, Olivier exhaled again, pulling her mind back out of its focused state and returning back to normal, sheathing her blade to assist with the mental transition. As soon as she snapped back into her normal mental state, the injury that Olivier suffered surged into life with a vengeance, fresh pain coursing through her body._

_Though the pain was distracting, Olivier still saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of here eye, though she dismissed the movement when she realised it was nothing threatening. If she had focused on the movement she would have seen the last remnants of the crimson stone falling from the body of the last cultist, it's baleful glare glowing in the darkness for a second before the last of its energy finally failed, and it crumbled to dust that was quickly blown away._

_Olivier glanced around the groups of soldiers that had survived the encounter, and she saw that about a dozen of them had survived in a few pockets of resistance. Most of them that weren't severely injured were gazing open-mouthed at Olivier, clearly shocked at the display of martial skill that she had just demonstrated._

_Once Olivier had fully come to her senses she saw that Richter was still embroiled in his fight with the leader of the cult, though the fact that he was clutching at his eyes indicated that he must have been blinded by something that she didn't notice. When Olivier realised that the leader was making his way towards the explosives while Richter was blinded she limped towards the explosives as quickly as her injury would allow, intent on intercepting the leader before he could activate the explosives._

_She wasn't going to make it…_

* * *

My blade had stopped, held in place by whatever object it had struck. I still couldn't see what I had struck, but I felt a warm liquid running down my hand through my bandages, whatever I had struck was leaking badly.

With one more shake of my head I felt my vision return to me, or at least enough that I could vaguely make out whatever I had struck, and shock and horror filled my mind as I realised what had happened.

My blade had struck the leader of the cult directly in the chest, piercing straight through his sternum and emerging out of his back, the polished steel coated in blood and viscera. I saw the dumbfounded face of the leader staring right back at me, his hand outstretch towards the explosives. It was clear that he was only moments away from detonating the bomb, it seemed that I had saved the day, I should have been elated.

But all I felt was horror.

After what felt like eternity I finally mustered the willpower to pull my blade from the leader's chest, though withdrawing the weapon only soaked me further with his blood as it ran down the blade and onto my hands. The leader fell to the ground, already dead before his body even fell still, bathed in a pool of his own blood.

Like some kind of automaton, I sheathed my blade, the wet squelching of the bloodied blade drilling into my head. I could feel my entire body starting to shake, the shock of taking a life had truly shook me, and it was all I could do to stop myself from breaking down right there.

I looked down at my bandaged hands, now soaked in the blood of another person, the thick crimson liquid colouring the bandages and serving as a visual reminder of what had just happened. All I could do was stare at my hands, the hands of a fool who had committed the taboo, the hands of somebody who hid his face out of shame, the hands of a killer.

I felt a hand on my shoulder again, and with some trepidation I turned to see Olivier again, although she was injured she seemed far less fazed than me, and I cursed my own weakness.

"Let's go Major." She said, her voice indicating that she understood exactly what I was experiencing "We're done here."

I nodded numbly and followed her out of the room, wishing desperately that I could close my eyes.

I didn't want to see the blood anymore.

* * *

Central Command: 05/10/1899

It was late, it had been a few hours since Armstrong and I had returned from the raid in Central. Over the hammering of my own heartbeat I could hear Armstrong conversing with other Officers, explaining what had occurred.

The bomb had been stopped, heavy losses were taken but a great threat to Central had been stopped, the raid was a success by most counts, and the losses were bearable in comparison to what the bomb could have done, Armstrong's team had accomplished their objective.

So why did I only feel horror?

I had been sitting at Armstrong's desk for a few hours now, not really out of any will to remain, but simply because I couldn't bring myself to move anywhere else. The most I could force myself to do was change the bandages on my arms and clean the blood from my sword, I couldn't bear to see the blood anymore, it was only a reminder of what had happened.

The sound of a door opening behind me barely even registered, and it was only when Armstrong sat down opposite me that I was moved from my stupor and registered her presence. I couldn't bear to say anything, I couldn't even think of anything to say. We simply stared at each other for a few minutes, and the silence was a blessed reprieve from my own internal thoughts.

"I know how you feel." Olivier said, finally speaking up with a soft and measured tone.

"Do you?" I replied, not wishing for the remark to sound as venomous as it did, but I simply wished to vent my frustration somewhere.

"Of course." She said, seemingly not noticing my tone "Taking a life is never an easy thing, it gets easier over time but the first time you have to take a life is an awful thing."

"I feel like a monster." I admitted, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of my voice "The blood…"

"I know." She nodded, sincerity in her voice "But you're strong, I know you have the will to keep going."

"I know it needed to be done." I said, trying to voice my concerns "I know that I saved lives by taking one, but I still feel like a monster."

"That's why we take lives in the Military." She whispered, "Sometimes you need to save lives to take them."

"This won't be the last, will it?" I answered, though I was already certain of the answer.

"No." She replied, "But it will get easier."

"I hope so…" I trailed off.

For a while the pair of us simply sat in silence, it seemed that Armstrong wanted to ask me something, but she was clearly deliberating what to do.

"Major, I want to ask you something." She finally said, drawing my attention again. "I need you to be honest but understand that whatever you say is not to leave this room."

"What do you need to know?" I whispered, still feeling physically and mentally exhausted.

"Do you trust the Military?"

"No"

"Why?"

A memory flashed through my mind, something that lay just beyond my reach, a memory of my father telling me something so dangerous that it led to his death. As soon as the memory came to me it vanished again, leaving me with little more than a distant feeling.

"I don't know."

"Do you trust me?"

Another pause, but I came to a conclusion far sooner.

"Yes"

"Why?"

"Because you trust me." I replied without even thinking.

Olivier didn't answer that, and we simply sat in silence again.

"I expect to see you tomorrow morning in the Courtyard." Olivier said out of nowhere, the bizarre order drawing my attention somewhat.

"Of course." I replied, before asking "How come?"

"Your combat technique is abysmal, you can't rely on Alchemy all the time and I expect you to be adept in all aspects of combat."

That was a scary proposition, Armstrong somewhat frightened me at the best of times, and the prospect of crossing blades with her was certainly frightening.

I knew that my life was only set to get harder from here, Armstrong was going to put me through the ringer in every conceivable way, pushing me far beyond my mental and physical limits. Despite the apprehension I felt at this situation, I knew it was for my own good, it would make me stronger, it would stop me from having any more breakdowns like the once I was having now. It would be almost impossibly difficult, I would end up injured several times, and I would be broken before being reforged into something else, I was going to be a Soldier, it will be a dangerous path.

Still, it was better than being left with my thoughts.

I couldn't bear to be alone.

* * *

_Author's Note_

_Did I trick you with that?_

_Honestly, I didn't realise how much the perspective switching here ended up implying that Richter had stabbed Olivier, that would have been something of a twist, but it doesn't make a huge amount of sense to me. I ended up leaving the implication in for a bit of a shock, but hey, I think it works._

_And so, the first double feature of this tale concludes, even though it was one caused by a regrettable delay. I was very disappointed to have to delay chapter 6, but the deadline that had hit me was extremely time-consuming, and so I had basically no time to work on chapter 6 over the entire weekend, which is when I do the majority of my writing. Though the chapter was largely completed on Monday, I hadn't had the time to edit and change the chapter as much as I usually do, which left it in a state that I was quite unhappy with. I would personally rather delay a chapter and release it properly than release something sub-par that I am unhappy with, as I don't like sacrificing quality for anything._

_Thankfully the deadline has been completed and my schedule for the next few months is looking appealingly empty, which should leave me a good deal of time that I can use to continue writing. This means that any further delays are highly unlikely, and I will fight tooth-and-nail to keep things that way. This should mean that double-chapters are far more likely in the future, and they won't require a week of nothing in order to be created, so that's something I'm happy about._

_Next week will see things returning to normal when it comes to my schedule, Monday, 9PM GMT uploads (keep in mind Fanfiction takes a bit of time to process stories and new chapters, so they might not appear exactly on time). With double chapters do keep in mind that they won't always be related or an extended story like this week, it is entirely possible that they will simply be two random chapters that happen to be released at the same time._

_As for content, Next Week will be a bit more slice-of-life stuff, as Olivier said, Richter has a lot to work on, and no doubt that the lessons she intends to teach him will be more than a little painful for our young State Alchemist._

_I've tried to do justice to showing Richter's trauma at having to kill somebody, and although I struggled with this passage, I think that I managed to show the trauma of such a thing decently well, and this will play into the development of his character later on._

_The conversation between Olivier and Richter also hints to the relationship that the pair will share with each other in the future, and somewhat hints towards how the troops of Briggs will develop their independent streak._

_Speaking of content, I was happy to feature Olivier kicking ass in chapter 7, and this is something that will certainly be more frequent. I've struggled a little with my depiction of the elder Armstrong sibling, as she is the most prevalent canon character in this fic, I hope that I've done her justice here._

_Lastly, I'd like to thank everybody that has viewed, followed, favourited and reviewed this story, it makes me so happy to see that people are interested in my work, and this happiness translates into motivation to keep writing. For being my main source of motivation, I thank you all, and I hope that we will get to explore this story even more._

_I suppose I better wrap up this rambling Author's note, So I'll see you all next week._

_Extra Note- On the Saturday after this chapter was published my old laptop finally gave up on me, this fact, coupled by internet problems are the reason for the lack of content over the past few weeks. I've written this note out on my phone while I'm waiting for a new PC to arrive, but in the meantime I'm afriad I can't publish this week._

_The good news is I have a great deal of free time this week, and I can say with certainty that I will publish next Monday, there will be at least one chapter for each week published, though it is likely to be more than that._

_Thank you for your support and understanding, and I apologise for having to delay again, it bothers me a lot to have to delay things and I would like nothing more to get back on track._

_See you next week._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Healed**

* * *

Central Command: 06/10/1899

I rubbed my temples in a desperate attempt to ward of the fatigue that had plagued me since I woke up, the futile gesture only serving to further irritate me. I had slept poorly last night, kept awake by the image of the man I had killed.

I knew that his death was necessary in the end, and that by killing him I had saved many more lives in the process, but this knowledge did nothing to improve my conscience, and I had been kept awake by the feeling of guilt that lingered in my mind.

Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong had instructed me to meet her in the courtyard of Central Command for a lesson in melee combat, and although I initially dreaded the event, I now craved the distraction that it would give me from my troubled thoughts. Despite that, I was still mildly terrified by what lay ahead of me for the next few hours.

The sword that had taken a life and saved many others was sheathed at my hip, and I had managed to polish and sharpen the weapon when I remembered that it was an ancestral blade of the Armstrong family, and Colonel Armstrong likely wouldn't be pleased to see it in any state other than perfectly maintained.

When I realised that Colonel Armstrong was making her way towards me from Central Command I moved to greet her, and we paused standing only a few metres apart. Once we had stopped I snapped to a salute, which Armstrong nodded to and gestured for me to follow her, which I obeyed.

"Major." She addressed, not looking back as she led me towards the training yard "I trust you are ready?"

"Of course, Ma'am." I replied, trying to sound more comfortable that I felt "I hope that I will meet your expectations."

It bothered me somewhat that we would always converse in such a stale and formal manner when in public, I found more at ease when Armstrong and I were able to speak casually in her office, when the military discipline that was expected of us fell away somewhat. Those times where Armstrong and I were alone were the times where I felt I could be honest with her, and I hoped that she held similar thoughts towards me. But when we were elsewhere Military Procedure required a level of formality and decorum, a requirement that we would obey.

I realised that Armstrong was leading me towards the large training yard in the centre of the courtyard, it was little more than a circle of dusty earth surrounded by a simple wooden fence, but most of the militaries' best fighters had honed their skills in this place and it held a strange position of reverence within the ranks of the military.

Armstrong vaulted over the fence in a gesture of calm confidence, showing to me that she had likely already taken on several challengers in this circle, and if her prowess last night was anything to go by, she likely defeated them all as well. For my part I opted to use the gate to enter the arena, acutely aware that any attempt at a vault would likely end up with me face-down in the dirt.

Then again, that was quite likely to happen in the next few minutes anyway.

I stood opposite Armstrong for a good few seconds in silence, I then became aware that she was sizing me up, which left me a little uncomfortable until she finally spoke again.

"You seem to be ready." She stated, apparently having seen whatever she was looking for "Draw your weapon and stand ready."

After a moment's hesitation I obliged her request and pulled by blade from it's sheath in a quick motion and dropped into the stance I had employed against the leader of the cult last night, only realising afterwards that the stance was copied from a painting I had seen once.

Armstrong paced towards me and looked me up and down, assumedly assessing my form and posture. With her hands clasped behind her back she slowly circled around me, her eyes roving over me as she searched for any flaws, and her expression when she came back to face me indicated that she had found many.

"I'm assuming that this isn't an actual combat pose?" She asked, though her tone made it clear that she wasn't really asking a question.

"No Ma'am." I replied, "I came up with it on the fly last night, it was all I could think of."

"I see." She muttered, apparently somewhat relieved that I wasn't attempting to pass off whatever I was doing as an actual combat pose. "I'm sure we can amend this into something more useful."

With that last remark Armstrong began to circle me again, but this time she would constantly push or prod at a limb until I moved it into an acceptable position. This continued for a few minutes as Armstrong continued to circle around me, making comments on certain parts of my form or berating me if I had inadvertently moved out of position.

When she was apparently satisfied with how I stood she returned to her previous position and addressed me again.

"I want you to remember this form as best you can, write it into your muscle memory on every level." She spoke, sounding unusually calm and emotionless "Now stand easy."

I complied, doing my best to remember every aspect of the stance I had just be taught. As soon as I felt I was ready, I obliged Armstrong's order and returned to a normal pose.

"Good." Armstrong said, her expression turning into a barely-suppressed grin "Now return to the stance."

I did my best and moved back into the pose, already cursing my lack of muscle memory. As soon as I had settled into the pose Armstrong raised an eyebrow and looked me over, assessing me again.

"Very good." Armstrong said, surprising me greatly "It seems that this form fits you very naturally."

I nodded and made an attempt to tighten my form somewhat, though the encouragement I had received from Armstrong helped me feel a little more relaxed that I had been previously.

"Are you ready to begin?" asked Armstrong, drawing her blade and dropping into a stance of her own.

I nodded my assent and readied my own blade, feeling that I would be able to take on whatever was coming.

* * *

The next thing I knew I was lying on my back, my blade twisted from my hand and a throbbing pain on what remained of my nose. Only after a second did I realise what had happened, Armstrong had drawn my attention with a wide slash in one direction, before darting in a different direction and thrusting her blade forwards, catching my own blade and twisting it from my grasp. Before I even realised what had happened she had struck my nose with the handguard of her blade, the force and suddenness of her strike surprising me and knocking me from my feet.

It was a humbling display to say the least.

I saw an open hand in front of me and, with a groan, took it and let myself be hauled to my feet. Armstrong's expression was one of mild amusement, and once she seemed sure that I wasn't going to fall straight back down she paced away before turning to face me again.

"Sorry about that Major." She said, watching as I paced across the arena to retrieve my blade "I had to show off a little, it makes you realise what you're up against after all."

"Of course." I groaned, rolling my shoulders as I attempted to loosen my joints "Though I don't know how much I learned besides how hard you punch."

Olivier smirked at that, and after a few more seconds of silence she stood back into her stance.

"Ok, for real this time." She said, her expression hardening into a more focused look "Enter your stance and face me."

I obliged her request, altering my stance slightly to better guard my face, intent on avoiding another strike to the head. I briefly attempted to narrow my eyes, thinking that it would make me look more serious, until I realised that I was unable to make such a motion anymore, so I settled for adopting a more aggressive pose.

"Now the first thing you need to know is to avoid wide slashes." She said, swinging her sword in a wide arc to demonstrate her point "It's far too easy for your opponent to parry or disarm you when your attacks are so wide and predictable."

"I see." I replied, seeing the value in such advice "What would you recommend instead?"

"Keep your strikes quick and narrow, avoid having your blade out on the attack any more than is needed." She said, again making several motions to demonstrate her technique "Give your opponent as few opportunities as possible and exploit any mistakes they make as ruthlessly as you can."

We went on like this for some time, Armstrong would mention a certain technique or stance that she found to be useful and would explain the pros and cons of her various techniques. It quickly became clear to me that Olivier was greatly devoted to swordsmanship, demonstrating an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of various stances and techniques, both those that have been practised for centuries, as well as new techniques that she had developed by herself, and many more that she stated that she still hoped to perfect.

Her knowledge and passion for the art was impressive, and as somebody who obsessed over Alchemy, it made me think of her as somewhat of a kindred spirit in regard to passion and obsession over a certain art. Though the arts we practised were vastly different, we still had a great deal in common when it came to our own obsessions.

After a great deal of conversation and practise Olivier finally decreed that I was ready to try out a short practise bout with her, something that both elated and vaguely terrified me. It was in that moment that I realised that Olivier often left me feeling somewhat worried, I was glad that I wasn't saddled with a stricter and by-the-book officer, but still, she put me in mind of some kind of swashbuckling adventurer, somebody who sought out danger for the thrill it represented. It seemed I was destined to be dragged along into whatever danger she found next, hell I wasn't complaining, at least it was something to do.

The stance I decided on to face Olivier was a simple one, but one that I felt would suit me well enough. It emphasised defensive action, holding back the opponent and waiting for them to slip up, when that occurred I would be able to swiftly counter the actions of my opponent. This stance was useful in it's aspect as a sword-fighting stance, but I believed that the calm and defensive stance would lend itself well to the useful of Alchemy during a bought, which played well into my strength. One day, I mused, I would have to ask Olivier how to combine Alchemy with swordsmanship, though the pairing could certainly be devastating, it was possible that they could also play against each other. I had horrible visions of receiving a sword in the stomach while I performed a transmutation, so I knew I would have to be wary of letting my guard down.

Armstrong and I faced each other down, we each stood in our respective stances, our blades at the ready. Several long seconds passed as we stared each other down, I was almost expecting some kind of dramatic tune to start playing, just like the radio dramas I listened to in my youth.

"Just so you know." Armstrong said, her face the epitome of calm confidence "This is the only time I'll go easy on you."

"Going easy?" I smirked, my nervous smile thankfully masked under my bandages "Why do I get the feeling I'm still going to end up in the dirt?"

"Maybe you're smarter than you look." She smirked.

"Hilarious." I replied, rolling my eyes despite the futility of the motion.

"I always am." She smiled, raising her blade to indicate that she was finished making idle conversation.

With all the words between us exhausted we finally faced each other down, ready for the other to make the first move. I was confident that I could win this initial battle of patience, only partially because a small part of me wanted the duel to never begin in the first place.

In the end, I was proven right.

* * *

Armstrong dashed forwards, making a feint that I managed to predict before making her first initial strike, the pointed tip of the blade glinting in the sunlight as it darted towards me like quicksilver. I barely managed to push the strike aside, retaliating with a strike of my own to apply a slight bit of pressure onto Armstrong, hoping to swing the duel in my favour.

My own strike was easily turned aside by Armstrong, and another strike came my way, which I ducked under and retaliated again. It seemed that my attempts to counterattack were largely in vain, Armstrong moved like quicksilver between my blows, her graceful movements dazzling me even as I struggled to defend against her assault.

With this realisation in my mind, I switched to a purely defensive stance, knowing that any attempt to make my own attacks would be turned aside or result in me being disarmed. I hoped to win via a battle of attrition, knowing in my mind that Armstrong's aggressive posture and movements would likely tire her out far quicker that my largely stationary stance. Then again she was likely in far better shape than me, I'd have to ask if the State Military possessed a gymnasium of some kind to rectify that.

We traded blows like that for a good while, Armstrong's forwards and aggressive stance being barely held back by my own defensive style, though I felt the mounting pressure of the relentless attack that Armstrong was afflicting on me. After a while I realised that the attrition approach wasn't working out, and that I needed to switch to a new strategy. With this realisation I waited for an opening and when one appeared, I made a strike at Olivier's flank, hoping to score a glancing strike and put and end to the bought.

That was my first big mistake.

I saw instantly that Olivier had been waiting for such an opportunity, and she acted on it before my strike had even reached her. Her blade thrust upwards to meet mine, though instead of the parry I was expecting her blade twisted mid-flight and stuck itself between the handguard of my sword and my knuckles. I realised too late what Armstrong was attempting, and I could only watch in shock as she used her own sword as a lever and wrenched the blade from my grasp. The sword flew free from my bandaged hand and spun across the arena, embedding itself point-down into the dirt.

Before I could make a run to recover my blade Olivier spun on her heel and planted her boot into my chest, sending me flying backwards into the dirt of the arena. Olivier stood over me, her blade placed a few inches from my throat.

"That was well fought Major." Olivier said, her face steely yet showing that she was slightly impressed "But today, I claim victory."

I didn't reply to that, knowing that I had to formally surrender before the duel was considered over. I briefly weighed out my options in my head, knowing that the course of action that I was considering border on the suicidal, but if I pulled it off, it would at least give me a more dignified victory.

"You know what you need to do Major." Armstrong said, her face showing that she sensed my hesitation "There's no shame in giving in now, you fought well."

It was true that there was little shame in surrender, and the larger, more sensible part of my mind compelled me to accept her request and move on from the duel. But the more daring part of my mind compelled me to follow the course of action that was forming in my mind. I wanted to prove myself to Armstrong, though I hoped that she didn't see me as a burden I still wished to prove the strength of my will, to feel that I had earned my place as her second.

Hell, what was the worst that could happen?

I didn't give Armstrong a chance to react to what I was about to do, knowing that she would be able to easily subdue me from my current position. I clapped my hands together, and as Armstrong heard the tell-tale whistling from my transmutation and moved to subdue me, I thrust my hands onto the dirt of the arena. The lightning flash of Alchemy filled the air for a second, and an explosion of dust filled the arena, clouding the air and hopefully blinding Olivier for a brief few seconds.

After the success of the transmutation became obvious to me, I executed the next part of my plan, which I had barely even finished forming even as I put it into action. I rolled out of the way of the blade that I feared was coming and pulled myself to my feet, I sprinted away from where the faint outline of Olivier was visible and made my way towards the last place I had seen my sword. Though the dust was irritating to me, the goggles that covered my eyes protected me from the blinding affects of the dust, and thus I was able to move through the choking cloud without any real issues.

When I reached the other side of the arena I saw the faint outline of my blade buried in the dirt only a few feet away from me. I reached for the blade, and as my hand closed around the handle. I wrenched the blade free of the dirt and felt the wait of the weapon in my hand, I marvelled at the quality of the blade, it still held it's edge well and it glinted in the light of the sun.

With another clap of my hands I changed the composition of the dust that still hung in the air, condensing the cloud into several clumps of dirt that fell to the ground, clearing the air and allowing me to see properly again. As soon as the arena cleared of dust I saw Armstrong pivot on her heel to face me, an expression of amusement on her face.

"Impressive Major." Armstrong said, wiping her eyes of the remaining dust "Though you will need more than parlour tricks to beat me."

Instead of replying I clapped my hands together again and placed my free hand on the ground. Alchemic Lightning filled my vision as I pulled a second sword from the ground, reconstituting the atoms into a thin metal blade. The sword I had created was rushed, and so it was far less elegant than the blade I held in my other hand, but it would do what I needed.

Without words, Armstrong and I clashed again, steel striking steel as our blades struck and parried each other. Our deadly dance continued for a time, my momentum from a renewed attack carrying me to a level where I could at least compete with Armstrong, and the advantage given to me by my second blade allowed me to continue pressing forwards.

Armstrong seemed to be surprised by the ferocity of my continued attack, and for a moment she was forced onto the defensive, holding her blade close to deflect the strikes I was producing. For a moment my attack relented, and it was then that Armstrong made her move, ducking below my strike and kicking my legs out from under me, sending me spiralling to the floor as my blades fell from my hands again. Without giving me an opportunity to retaliate Armstrong leapt over to me and landed on my chest, grabbing my arms and pinning them down. The impact of the landing caused the back of my head to violently strike the ground, dazing me and causing my vision to blur over, before clearing to reveal something else.

* * *

Somewhere Unknown

When my vision cleared I was taken aback with what I saw, I was floating in the void that I had first seen inside The Gate, the jet-black void that had shown me fractured visions of the past, present and future. It was only after my visit to The Gate that I realised I was unable to recall any of the visions of the future that had been shown to me, and any attempt to recall the visions had left me with a splitting headache, as well as an innate feeling that the knowledge that had been shown to me was forbidden in some way.

Now the visions flickered throughout my mind again, albeit in a far more clam manner than the first time I had been within The Gate. It was difficult to explain, but this time it seemed more like a memory of The Gate, rather than being within The Gate itself, as the void that surrounded me somehow lacked the feeling of _wrongness _that permeated the void after my first encounter. All of the images that flickered through my mind were blurred beyond recognition, and it was only when the last image appeared that the reason for my visit became clear.

The last image was clear for me to see, and I suddenly marvelled at how I had managed to forget something so important as the image solidified in my mind's eye. The image was that of a bandaged figure in an Amestrian Military Uniform, a figure that I had initially not recognised on my first visit, but now it was all too clear.

The figure was me!

Somehow the figure seemed _older _that me, the figure was larger in stature, and the easy confidence was evident in it's pose. The sword it held in one hand and the Alchemic Lightning at it's fingertips were also recognisable as belonging to me. Strangely enough the stripes on the figure's uniform marked it out to be a Brigadier General, and I briefly pondered if it was even possible for a State Alchemist to carry such a rank, let alone what I must have done for The Military to earn such a station.

The other figure in the image was also now known to me, it was clearly Olivier! She too was visibly older, though her calm and noble bearing had clearly only improved in the years between then and now… whenever _now _was anyway… Olivier's spectre also held a different rank, her stripes showing her to be a Major General. That last detail made me smile a little, it seemed that I was destined to be one rank under her, though a small part of me hoped that I might have been her equal at rank in at least one point in our careers.

The other details in the image gave me pause for thought, the army clad in white, and the great steel wall that rose from the icy-capped mountains in the distance. Both of these things were unknown to me, as the only snowy region in Amestris was the Northern Region, and that boasted no significant military force nor any fortifications that matched what I saw. Relations with Drachma to the North had been largely cordial, and so the Northern Region simply borrowed troops from Central whenever they were needed. It seemed that these details made no sense at all, but then again, it was in the future. I wondered what event could possibly cause a need for such a potent force, and it worried me what such military escalation could mean.

My vision began to fog again, and the image disappeared from my sight, though it remained burned into my mind.

* * *

Central Command: 06/10/1899

"Major?" A faint voice shouted, every syllable stinging my ears "Can you hear me Major?"

I groaned and winced as my vision focused again, the concerned face of Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong looking down at me, having risen from her previous position. I picked myself up and grabbed my sword, quickly sheathing it before turning back to face Olivier.

"I remember." I said, unable to keep the slight tremor out of my voice.

"What?" Asked Armstrong, seemingly confused by my statement "What do you remember?"

I explained what I had seen, I had told Armstrong of the visions I had seen before, though I admitted that I was unable to remember anything specific about what I had seen. This time I was able to tell her something concrete, and I explained as best I could what I had been able to remember. When I had finished my explanation Armstrong's eyes were wide with surprise, though it seemed that she at least believed me.

"I see." She said, still processing what I had told her "If these are indeed visions of the future, it seems that we have an interesting time ahead of us."

"Of course…" I replied, letting my voice trail off to betray my concerns.

"At the very least you're correct about the Military in the North." She said, pacing towards me "The North has no standing army, and I can scarcely imagine a fortification like the one you described…"

"Still, we should probably be focusing on the present for now." I said, shrugging my shoulders and shaking my head to try and clear my mind.

"Indeed." Armstrong answered, "Maybe we should look into the symbols used by that cult last night?"

"Very well, lead on Ma'am." I said, hoping to avoid the subject of the cult as it reminded me of the killing I had committed last night.

Armstrong nodded and paced off, I followed behind her, reflecting on how my 'training' with Olivier had helped to take my mind off of my troubled thoughts. At that realisation I resolved to commit myself to my work more fully, hoping that it would stop me from dwelling on my thoughts too heavily.

At the very least I would have the opportunity to study this mysterious cult, as their fanaticism and Alchemic knowledge made them somewhat interesting in my eyes, and I hoped to avoid any other cells or similar groups becoming a problem, and like Alchemy, the first step was understanding. I could easily see myself becoming totally enveloped in this research, which would prove to be a welcome distraction.

I might not be healed of my physical injuries, but I can at least ignore my mental ones.

* * *

_Author's Note_

_I'm Back!_

_Apologies for the unexpected intermission, if you saw the addendum on the last chapter you would have seen that my computer finally had it's meltdown, and I was left unable to do any writing._

_This was a major pain, especially after the last delay I had to make, and it left me waiting for a new PC to arrive, unable to do any writing for a few weeks. When my PC finally arrived, I was at least able to recover this story, though I didn't have enough time to clear my backlog and put up 3 chapters this week like I owe you all._

_As well as this, this chapter was a major pain to finish, for reasons that I'm not entirely sure of. I'm not thrilled with this Chapter's final state, though I think it at least does a little character building and gives Armstrong a chance to shine, which has been lacking until recently._

_So, there's just the one chapter this week, which is a little more character-based than the action double-bill of the past few chapters, though it does hint as to what is coming next._

_The storyline of the cult will continue for a few more chapters before wrapping up and provided you have actually watched Brotherhood you should be able to tell what The Cult of the Serpent is all about. After that, well… you'll have to wait and see. I can at least say that Father's scheme might become a little more obvious to our characters, though the man himself clearly already has plans about Richter, plans that could certainly cause some issues…_

_Time will also start to move quicker, as I've been pretty much writing day-to-day in regard to time, and I plan to get to Brotherhood eventually, so expect there to be some time between chapters after this first arc wraps up. Still, the first major events in FMA history are soon to kick off, the Ishvalan conflict will begin in a scant few years, and Father's plan will begin to turn quicker and quicker. As well as that Ed and Al are soon to be born, so keep an eye out for them, they might show up in unexpected places…_

_On a brighter note, a few days ago this Story passed 1,000 views, as well as continued support in the form of Follows, Favourites and Reviews, so thank you all for supporting this story._

_As something else to think about, I have another FMA story on the horizon, one that is very different to this one. It's been in planning for quite a while, and I think it is almost ready to see the light of day. That said, I don't wish to disrupt the flow of this story, so this new fic will only be released if I can ensure one chapter for each a week, so it's status is kind of in limbo right now._

_Anyway, I'll see you all with (at least) 3 chapters next week, thank you all again!_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Research**

* * *

Central Command: 06/10/1899

Armstrong and I had made our way towards the great library of military knowledge held in Central Command, a treasure trove of knowledge that I would do almost anything to see for myself. Though I knew such over-enthusiasm was unprofessional I was still a Scientist at heart and witnessing such a gathering of knowledge under one roof was a temptation that I could barely resist. I had to remind myself of my purpose in visiting this library, we were here to gain information on the Cult Armstrong and I had faced last night, not to go browsing through Alchemic texts. Still, I would have to make time to visit this place some other time, when I would be free to research at my leisure.

Armstrong was walking in front of me, leading me towards the Library; she navigated the twisted maze of Central Command with ease, and I found myself blindly following her towards our destination. When she quickly turned on her heel and reached for a pair of great oak doors that I had only this second noticed I knew that we had reached our destination. As Armstrong pushed open the doors I had my first glance of the great library of Central Command, and I could never have anticipated what I saw within.

It was empty.

Not empty of books, there were thousands of them, stacked neatly in great oak shelves from floor to ceiling. It was empty of people, barely a soul seemed to lurk within the grandiose chamber, and the only person I could see was a Sergeant sleeping soundly on one of the desks, obviously having thought that this would be a sufficient place to hide.

"I take it this place isn't very popular?" I asked, wondering if Armstrong had accidently taken us to a little-used side room.

"Apparently not." She replied, already moving forwards to claim one of the large tables in the centre of the room, not that she would have faced any competition for it "Last I heard they were planning to move everything to a new site in Central, but it seems that that project has been halted for the time being, most likely due to lack of interest."

All I could do at that was shrug and shake my head, it seemed that the search for knowledge wasn't that valued in Central Command. Then again, did soldiers really have need of a place like this?

As soon as Armstrong had sat down at one of the tables I immediately went to work, skimming through the shelves for any volumes that might have been useful for our research, so anything related to Alchemic history or Cults instantly went straight onto a growing pile of books that I would periodically bring to the table that Armstrong was sat at, and her growing expression of disbelief at each new pile of books indicated to me that she had never really partaken of research like this.

Despite the quick pace with which I was gathering books the overall volume of books was disappointingly small, and I was sometimes scouring whole shelves without finding a single volume that would be useful to me. The vast majority of the books were treatise on war or books on Amestrian history, and while both of these categories doubtlessly contained a lot of helpful information they were ultimately unhelpful to my efforts in my research, so I ended up passing them over.

At the very least I knew I could safely skip the second half of the library, as the signs that hung above the various aisles of books informed me of their contents, and I doubted that a book on cooking or geology would be much help in what I was looking for.

In the end I had gathered several dozen volumes, ranging from wafer-thin volumes on an absurdly specific subject, to great tomes that boldly claimed to summarise the entirety of Amestrian History. The collected books had formed a great pile of literature, and I had precariously stacked them into several tall piles on the oak table that Armstrong sat at, though she was now obscured from my sight by a particularly unstable pile of books.

I set down the last pile of books onto the table, only now realising that my rapid scouring of the library had left me somewhat out of breath, and my bandaged hands were covered in dust from handling some particularly neglected volumes I had found sitting in a darkened corner. I sat down opposite Armstrong and was about to reach for the first volume that came to hand before a cough from Armstrong caught my attention.

"Are you sure we're going to need this many books?" She asked, her voice was a mixture of mild amusement and much less mild apprehension at the number of books I had gathered.

"Possibly." I said with a slight laugh "I might have got a little carried away, but I wanted to be thorough."

"I see." She replied, before sighing and pushing the pile of books that separated us aside. Once she could see me again, she looked straight at me "We need to keep this quiet, some of those fools last night had military-level equipment, and I need to know how they got it."

My eyes widened behind my goggles as I realised the implication of her words.

"You think that somebody in the military could be behind this?" I whispered, suddenly feeling a cold shiver run down my spine.

"Perhaps." She said in a hushed voice, her eyes darted from side to side to confirm that we were still alone "We can't rule it out anyhow, and if that is the case, then we need to keep it quiet until we turn up something conclusive."

My mind was shaken by the information Armstrong had just conveyed to me, the knowledge that there may be some kind of conspiracy going on in the military was a troubling thought to say the least, and I worried as to what we might uncover. For a moment I debated whether or not it was even a good idea to continue on with our research, as if we uncovered anything too dangerous the consequences could be dire.

"I…" Olivier paused, seeming to contemplate what to say next "I don't want you to get tangled up in whatever this is. It would be best if you stood back and let me conduct this investigation on my own."

"I'm afraid I can't do that Ma'am." I replied, wondering exactly what I was getting myself into.

"Are you disobeying a direct order Major?" She asked, her stern expression marred somewhat by the hint of a smile on her lips.

"Not exactly Ma'am." I answered, continuing when I realised she was waiting for more "As your subordinate I feel it would be irresponsible of me to allow yourself to be put in harm's way, it is my responsibility to ensure your safety after all." Only after I finished speaking did I realise how ridiculous that sentence sounded, the sparring match that we had had this morning had shown that Olivier was more than capable of looking after herself.

"A compelling argument Major." She replied, the tone of her voice making me realise that she was playing with me at this point "I guess I can see the validity of your argument, but are you sure that you wish to do this? I won't force you into a situation that could be dangerous for you."

"I'm a soldier now." I shrugged "Danger and I will be the best of friends soon enough."

"Still…" Olivier paused again, her eyes deep in thought "I don't like the idea of you getting hurt, you're still new to all of this."

"I knew that that would be a possibility when I agreed to this Ma'am." I said, steeling my voice as much as I could "I know the risks involved, but I can't ignore what's going on here."

"You might have to kill somebody again."

That gave me a pause, though I knew that Olivier was being truthful in what she had said, and I knew that it wasn't an accusation, it still stung to hear it. The life I had taken the night before still weighed heavy on my mind, and the idea that I would have to repeat such a thing was troubling to say the least.

But I couldn't let Olivier down, I knew what needed to be done. Besides, in my mind I knew that taking lives would always be necessary, and that I couldn't shy away from this duty as long as I was a soldier.

"Then I'll do what needs to be done." I replied, hoping that I sounded more convinced than I felt "We can't allow… whatever this is to continue, and if that's what's needed to stop whatever is happening, then I guess that's what I'll have to do."

"That's what _We'll _do." She corrected, putting emphasis on every word "Don't think that you're alone in wanting to stop this, I'll be there as well."

"Leading from the front again I see?" I asked, hoping some humour would help to avert some of the tension that had built up in our conversation.

"Of course." Olivier said, a small smile creeping across her lips "There's no point in becoming an officer just to sit at a desk all day, I wouldn't miss the action for anything."

"Really… and you lecture me on staying safe?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in a gesture that I realised would not be visible to anybody… not that I had eyebrows anymore anyway.

"Yes, I do. Major." She said, though there was no venom in her voice "As your superior officer I had the unique privilege to lecture you at any time on any topic, so don't expect this to end any time soon."

"Of course, Ma'am." I smiled, suppressing a chuckle "Anything else that you need to lecture me on while we're here?"

"Yes, I think I'll lecture both you and I on the importance of focusing on the task at hand." She said, gesturing to the piles of books that had gone ignored for the last few minutes "We had best get back to it."

I nodded in agreement before gesturing to the various piles of books that were sat on the desk around us.

"Any idea where to start?" I asked, hoping that Armstrong's long line of family skills included at least some level of detective's instinct, or we were in for quite a long day.

"I think I'll start with this." Olivier said, holding up a massive tome that was covered in a thick layer of dust "_A Comprehensive Guide to Alchemical History. _Sounds absolutely riveting."

"It is in fact. I think I've read that one before, but it's worth looking it over for new information. It's quite an interesting and informati…" I stopped when I saw the deadpan expression on Olivier's face, the look informing me that I wasn't making the task any more appealing "Right, I guess I'll start here."

I reached for the first book that my hand found and opened it, diving straight into the pages, and silently hoping that we would find what we were looking for.

* * *

Poring over the massive volumes was proving far more tiring and tedious than I had expected, and even as somebody who was accustomed to spending a great deal of time reading, the monstrous size of the task ahead of us was eroding my will at a respectable speed.

Before I entered the military I had spent a great deal of my life performing research like this, whole days would disappear without me even noticing as I devoured as much knowledge as I could get my hands on. Back then the search for knowledge was something I valued in itself, and the act of research was often as rewarding as finally finding what I was looking for. It was strange then that I was finding this task so soul-crushing, as it was something that I was well suited for.

I shook those thoughts from my mind, no matter how tedious I found the task, I needed to find the information I was looking for. I wasn't some naïve young Alchemist idly searching for knowledge anymore, I was a soldier with a job to do, and I'd be damned if I didn't see the task through to the end.

With renewed vigour I attacked the pile of books that lay all around me, searching through the pages for anything and everything that might be useful to our investigation. Most of the information I found was either entirely inconsequential or something I had seen before, and I tried my hardest to skim through this information as quickly as possible.

I would occasionally find something new, and even if it was irrelevant to the task at hand I tried my best to mentally file the information away for later use, I also made a mental note to return to this library at some point, as I was certain I would be able to improve my alchemical knowledge was the treasure trove of information that was available to me in these walls.

Indeed, it was almost unnerving to see how much restricted or forbidden knowledge the military held within it's walls, and some of the things I came across when skimming through the books were both enticing and utterly horrifying. I knew that Alchemy didn't have the most wholesome history ever, but some of the things I saw written in these pages turned my stomach and made my head spin. Rituals, Human Sacrifice and much more, such backwards and superstitious things that seemed entirely at odds with the sanitised and scientific study of Alchemy that was known by the wider public. It seemed that much of the Alchemic knowledge that was commonplace these days was acquired through such foul means, and that humanity had carved a brutal path to the understanding that we held today.

Though the Eastern Sage is renowned amongst Alchemists for being the father of the art, it was well known that he only explained the principles of Alchemy to his first students, and the art was still greatly unknown at the time of his disappearance. It seemed that these grisly tomes showed how these gaps in Alchemical knowledge were filled, and even though I had never seen or heard of such things before, they made horrific sense.

My train of thought was stopped when my gaze landed on a section titled: 'The Philosopher's Stone'. I had, of course, heard of the Stone and its many fabled abilities. From granting eternal life to ignoring the law of equivalent exchange, the Stone had hundreds of myths and legends attached to it, but not even scant physical evidence had ever been found of such a thing.

Many great Alchemists had wasted away their lives in the search for the stone, with none ever finding more than the rumours that were already well known. Many others had tried to create their own Stones, and they most often fell victim to gruesome rebounds that claimed their lives or put them in such a state that they might as well have died.

It was strange then, to see such an object usually restricted to the realm of myth being detailed in this otherwise historical and well-researched book, and its highly descriptive passages about the stone were as curious as they were disturbing. The tone and prose of the passages was also highly circumspect, talking about the powers of the Stone as if they were proven fact rather than the rumours they are. Many powers that I had never heard being associated with the stone were written about in great detail: raising the dead, creating homunculi and even healing any injury.

I paused again, the passage about healing described how the Stone had the ability to restore anybody to perfect, describing how men and women with fatal illnesses or amputated limbs were perfectly healed in a scant few moments. A thought crossed my mind, if I were to locate a Philosopher's Stone I would be able to heal my injuries! I wasn't even sure if the damned thing was real, but it was a possibility I couldn't ignore.

_Oh, It's real alright. But don't blame me if you don't like what you find, if you can even find it._

The voice of the being that called itself Truth pulsed in my mind, the words echoing around my head for several seconds before I absorbed their meaning fully.

The stone was real.

The possibilities were already flashing through my mind, of all the wondrous things that I could achieve with such an item at my disposal. But above all else the idea of being healed, of being _whole _again was almost unbearable in how tempting it was. Though I had only been in this state for a few months I had almost resigned myself to the fact I would be stuck in this state forever, but this new revelation brought the desire for healing back into the forefront of my mind again, and The Philosopher's Stone sat at the centre of this desire.

As I held my bandaged arms in front of me, I could almost imagine them fully healed to their original state. I imagined being able to truly _feel _again, and for the constant pain that wracked my body to be banished completely from my mind.

"Is something wrong?"

The question shook me from my reverie, and I looked up to see the face of Olivier looking back at me, an expression of concern on her features.

"It's nothing." I mumbled, turning my gaze back towards the book I was studying. I wasn't sure what impulse stopped me from telling Olivier what I had found, but I found myself suddenly convinced that it was the right thing to do.

"Richter." Oliver said, catching my attention again. There was a pause of several seconds as Olivier seemed to consider what to say next "Nothing, don't worry about it."

I simply nodded and returned to my work, turning away from the pages about the Philosopher's Stone, though I promised myself that I would return to them as soon as possible.

* * *

_Olivier was also struggling with her own research, though she was an intelligent woman by most metrics, some of the Alchemical texts she studied were utterly baffling, and many may as well have been written in another language for how comprehensible they were to her. Despite these issues she pressed on, relying on a mixture of common sense and what Alchemy she did understand to make her way through the books._

_The underlying threat of a conspiracy within the military weighed heavy on her mind, and she knew she had to be wary of whatever her next action was. Without the identity of anybody in the military who might be involved, the best she could do was look into the history of the cult they had taken down last night and hope that this knowledge led to whoever was behind the whole affair._

_Another issue was causing concern for Olivier, and it involved the man sitting opposite her. Despite his attempts at normal conversation it was clear to Olivier that something was bothering Richter, and his attempts to hide whatever was going on in his mind only bothered Olivier more. Although she had barely known the man properly for a month or so, she did feel some kind of responsibility towards him._

_Olivier wasn't sure where this feeling of responsibility came from, though some of it was natural, with her being his superior officer and all, but something else was contributing towards her thoughts. She supposed it was due to the fact that she had seen him at his most vulnerable, teetering on the edge of death. It made sense that she would want to protect him after seeing him in such a state._

_Still, it would help if he wasn't so difficult to read, the complete lack of facial expressions made it hard for her to deduce his mood or emotions at any time, and she was concerned at the thought that something else was troubling him. She knew all that he had been through recently, and she didn't know if he could handle any more stress, it only she knew how to help him._

_She tried to remove the thoughts from her mind before they led somewhere she knew she couldn't think about, and she returned to her research, only barely registering that they had been in the library for almost three hours and they still hadn't found anything._

_Olivier had read about three more sentences before Richter's voice caught her attention again._

_"__I've got something."_

* * *

I could barely believe what I had found.

In one of the most innocuous books I had gathered lay an entire chapter devoted to the history of Alchemical cults, and within this chapter lay a double-page spread detailing the history of a cult that was remarkably similar to the one we had fought last night.

The pages detailed the last stand of the cult when they were wiped out by the Amestrian Military over 100 years ago, they were forced right back to their stronghold in Central and slaughtered to a man after they refused to surrender.

I relayed this information to Olivier, who listened attentively until I mentioned that they had been wiped out in Central itself.

"Does it say where they were in Central?" She asked, and I could already see the beginning of a plan forming in her mind.

Sure enough, it did; there was a map that showed a recognisable area of Central, and in the centre was a small mark that detailed where the cult had been wiped out.

"Do you know this area at all?" I asked Olivier.

"Well enough to tell you that the marked building has been abandoned for years." She answered, a small smile visible on the edges of her lips "It looks like we have a location to visit."

"Of course." I replied, standing up from the table "Are we to depart immediately?"

"Not quite." Olivier said, also standing and making her way towards the exit "It's almost midday, and it would be a good idea to visit the Mess Hall before we depart. Trust me, fighting on an empty stomach isn't a pleasant experience."

I nodded and followed behind her, my mind already abuzz at the thought of what we might find at the building.

* * *

I had never been to Central Command's mess hall before, and the experience was uncomfortably similar to the canteen of a school, bringing back some memories I hadn't expected to experience here of all places. Ah well, at least the food was decent.

Olivier and I were sat opposite each other, and I tried to eat as quickly and tidily as my condition would allow. Neither of us said anything to each for a long time, as both of us were acutely aware than the potential conspirer within the Military could be present only a few feet away, which was a disconcerting thought to say the least.

From the corner of my eye I noticed several soldiers were staring at me with undisguised fascination, clearly having noticed my appearance. Though I told myself that I would likely act similarly in their situation that thought did nothing to improve my mood. I hated when people stared at me, the pain I constantly felt was reminder enough of my condition, I didn't need constant stares to remind me of what I looked like as well.

Olivier must have noticed my discomfort, as she set what remained of her food aside and coughed to catch my attention.

"Is something bothering you?" She asked, trying to discern what exactly was on my mind.

"I don't like be _stared _at." I replied, unable to keep the venom out of my voice "It makes me feel like some sort of freak."

"Try and not let them get to you." She answered, she then paused and looked over my shoulder before continuing "Looks like we have company."

Before I could turn to see what Olivier was referring to a large man in Amestrian Military uniform was stood at the end of the table we were sat at, his stripes identified him as a Brigadier General, and he loudly placed a folder on the table to catch our attention. He stared at both of us in turn before clearing his throat and speaking up.

"Are you two Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong and Major Magnus?" He asked, though his tone of voice indicated that he wasn't really asking a question.

"Yes Sir." Olivier snapped, standing to attention in a swift motion that I quickly mirrored "Are we needed for something?"

"I am to understand that you two are investigating the case of an Alchemical Cult here in Central?" He spat, his voice sending a chill through my spine,

"That's correct Sir." Olivier answered again, sending me a barely-visible sideways glance showing me that she was feeling the same uneasiness as me "Are we to receive additional troops for the investigation?"

"No." He replied, "You are to cease all investigation into this matter, this cult was wiped out a long time ago, and I won't allow you to waste time and resources on pursuing ghosts."

"But Sir!" Armstrong protested "We faced these cultists last night!"

"That's an order Colonel Armstrong." He said, his gaze showing that he wanted no more arguments on the matter "I won't hear any more of this matter, and you are forbidden from pursuing this matter any further, understood?"

"Yes Sir." Muttered Olivier.

The Brigadier General simply nodded and retrieved his file, he then turned and walked away, not sparing us a backwards glance as he left. Olivier slid back into her chair, her face a mixture of confusion and despondency. I sat down myself and simply waited, unsure of what was coming next. We sat in silence for a few minutes, and I was considering finding a way to prompt Olivier when she sat up straight and leaned towards me, a sudden look of inspiration on her face.

"We can't allow this to continue." She said, leaning in closer and lowering her voice to ensure we weren't overheard "We have to investigate this cult, and I'll be damned before I let some Central stuffed-shirt tell me how to conduct my own investigation."

"So, we go anyway?" I asked, the beginning of a plan forming in my head "Do you think the Brigadier General could be our man?"

"Maybe, I haven't told anybody else about our investigation, so I don't know how he could know about it." She said, a smile creeping across her face "But we're going to that building tonight, no matter how many Generals tell me otherwise."

"So, are we disobeying orders now?" I chuckled.

"Not at all, I'm the only one here disobeying orders." She smirked "You're only obeying orders, it's just that you're following _my _orders."

The twisting of military logic was amusing enough, but I still couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of dread that was forming in the back of my mind. I knew that this cult had to be stopped, but I had an ominous sense that we were interfering with far more powerful and sinister things.

It might have been my own paranoia speaking to me, but I sensed that a dark presence was watching over our actions. Who knew quite how far this shadow reached? Could it even be stopped? These questions burned in my mind, but something told me that the answers I sought might be even more terrible than the questions.

* * *

_Author's Note_

_I'm back!_

_Exams are finally over, and the summer stretches before me, promising much free time to write._

_Thank you to everybody who sent me words of encouragement for my exams, your support was very touching, and it was great to see the views for this story steadily ticking upwards even in the absence of new chapters._

_On a side note, this was probably the most difficult chapter to write yet, and I have no idea why, given that it is mainly an in-between chapter with a few nice character moments. I hope that the final product is okay, but I'm honestly happy to see this chapter finished._

_I'll get right to the point, it's been far too long since this story has been meaningfully updated, and this is an issue I'll now be able to rectify._

_Since I have a great deal more time on my hands now, I'll be able to write more and thus update more. For at least the rest of summer I will be adopting a new schedule, updating with a new chapter every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I trailed writing this much last week and it was fairly simple to do, so I am happy to put this schedule in place. If I organise myself properly I might even be able to keep this schedule going when University starts up again, but that's something I can try when it comes to it._

_As well as this, keep an eye out next week, as there will be 3 chapters over those 3 days for a total of 9 chapters! This is a gift from me to you as thanks for being so supportive so this story and waiting so patiently for updates, so enjoy that extra boom of content._

_On another note, would anybody happen to know where I could commission some artwork for this stories' front page? Google hasn't been hugely helpful, and my artistic skills are close to non-existent, so if anybody could recommend somebody who does that kind of artwork that would be very helpful._

_Thank you all for your support and enjoy the rest of this week's chapters._


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